Halo 4: Shelter of the Reclaimers
by Gharst Omenlumin
Summary: The War is, at last, over. But Graves has unleashed the entire ONI database to the public, including the files incriminating ONI in numerous crimes. How will the Galaxy respond to both this, and Graves' call for desertion. All the while, the Master Chief and Blue Team fight an ancient evil that should have remained buried. Meanwhile, Locke discovers what true fear means and entails
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again, and sorry about my long leave of absence. As promised (if slightly overdue) I got you guys all a chapter of the next part in line of this story. sorry it took so long, but to keep this short, I had a busy life. driving lessons, searching for a study, working thirty hours a week... it just took a bit of time**

 **since you're not interested in me whining on, the usual follows.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't anything beyond OC's.**

 **Note: I haven't read the Forerunner Saga novels yet, so if it is non-canonical with that, I can assure you it's unintentional.**

 **Request 1: Reviews, please. I love those.**

 **Request 2: This image is only a filler until something better comes along. if any of you have something (made yourself or seen somewhere else) please send a link of it.**

 **Gratitude: I like to thank Alpha Highbreed, for providing excellent ideas for this story, as well as a few OC's he sent through (Normandy and MacCastle).**

 **Now, Read**

* * *

Halo 4: Shelter of the Reclaimers

Chapter 1

* * *

 _B312 Audiolog 1_

 _Well. Hello there. My name is- Jason, do I really need to do this?_

 _"Yes."_

 _Come on. Do I really have to use my full name?_

 _"No, 'Sev'. Your stupid nickname is fine, too."_

 _Thank you. Well, let's restart this. My name's Sev Zane. In case you're wondering, I have a despicably long full name. I just took the first letters from that, and here came my nickname. Sev._

 _"Oh, for the love of... Can't you just use one of the names? Sev just sounds... Dumb."_

 _Like Jason's such a good name._

 _"Oh just quit it, you insane baby. It's not like the rest of them have a choice anyway. You only gave them that nickname."_

 _With good reason. Anyway, You heard my name. Me and Jason are making these logs for posterity. Something for future generations of training to look back on. To see how their predecessors did it._

 _"It helps that you keep breaking into the Military HQ to steal these data chips for our recordings."_

 _*chuckle* They should really start to build smaller vents. Anyway, we got our tags yesterday. Mine's B312._

 _"And I'm B170. Which means I got picked earlier."_

 _pure chance. And since the training exercises will end soon, end of Log 1_

 _"Adios"_

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'_

Three days, she said to herself as she made it to her destination. By her count, three days had passed within this Shield World. And already, a split was forming.

As expected, the days had been spent in relative peace. There had been no hostiles, and they had been able to rest quite well. But then, they were forced to move on, as their food supply was running low. In short order, they had found a small Forerunner city. It had been well-stocked, and he expected to be able to survive for at least a few months here. But it had been boring, and while Halsey had managed to hack into the surveillance systems, they'd quickly learned that their city was the only one in a thousand kilometers, and without some sort of vehicle, there was no way they would be able to hike to the nearest one.

The search for some sort of Teleportation Grid like on Halo had been fruitless so far, and so, they waited until there was some sort of success. But during that rest, Mendez had started to let his consciousness slip through, and started to question Halsey about a lot of the nastier details of the Spartan Programs. The Spartans had split since then, the Threes siding with Mendez (mostly because they barely knew Halsey) while the Twos defending Halsey. Halsey and Mendez had been squabbling ever since, and the threes and twos stayed on opposite ends of the town.

Kelly, over the last two days, had grown tired of it all, and had gone exploring to avoid the conflicts. She was careful to always stay within Com range, otherwise the others would worry too much. But most of he time, she muted the conversations in order to tune the conflict out.

And during her explorations, she had found this place.

After a small, ten minute hike, she'd found a small cliff that overlooked the city. It offered a nice view of the surrounding area, was protected around the sides by the cliff, which rose even higher beyond her small spot, and was hard to spot for the others. In all, a perfect place for some peace and quiet while also keeping watch over the others.

 _John would love a place like this_ she thought, as she overlooked it. He also preferred the peace and quiet.

Speaking of quiet...

"Anything, Kalmiya?" She asked, as she sat down on the rock near the edge of the cliff. Beneath her, a waterfall emerged from somewhere within the cliff, ending at a pool connected to a river that ran through the city. During early scans by the AI that inhabited her head had indicated the pool at the end of the waterfall was deep enough for her to survive a dive, and it was a mere twenty-second run for her from that pool to the city. So she could always return to the others in a hurry if need be.

"Not a bad spot in the sky." The AI noted in a bored tone. "As usual."

"Would you rather have the excitement of standing between Halsey and Mendez?" Kelly asked.

"Right now? No. In a week? Ask me again at that point."

Kelly chuckled, as they lapsed back into silence. The AI was a permanent companion, nowadays. Her quirky personality was quite a match with Kelly's sense of humor, and she was a good aid in combat, enhancing her actions even without asking. She had to admit, she understood a lot better why the Chief was as attached to Cortana as he was.

She sprung up from her seat and grabbed her shotgun, as she heard a twig snap. She whirled around, aiming it at the source of her noise.

To her relief and dismay, it was Sam. Relief, because it wasn't a threat. Dismay, because it meant her private spot wasn't private anymore.

"Relax." Sam said, as he dropped his Rocket Launcher near the cliff wall. "It's me."

She nodded, and put her Shotgun back on her back slot. Sam put his helmet, his Minigun and his SMG's on a pile onto the Rocke Launcher. He moved to sit on the edge of the cliff, resting with his back against the rock Kelly sat on.

After a moment, Sam broke the silence. "It's nice up here. I can see why you come up here."

"Yeah." She said. "Hard to reach, good cover, easy way to return to the city."

Sam frowned. "How? I had to climb through thick bushes to get here."

Kelly merely gestured downwards, towards the waterfall. Sam looked down, and gulped. "You consider a jump from a cliff alongside a waterfall a quick exit?"

She removed her own helmet, and smirked. "Six would."

Sam huffed. "Six would purposefully miss just to feel the pain from the jump. And don't try to contradict it. You heard her say she would willingly jump from orbit for the same kick."

Kelly chuckled. "Yeah."

"Not to mention, she would ask one of us to join her in missing." Kalmiya said from the helmet speakers. The two Spartans laughed. Then, they lapsed into silence again, enjoying the view. After a moment, Kelly noted Sam was staring off, thinking about something. Hazarding a guess, she asked him about it.

"You're thinking of her, aren't you?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You heard Cortana's message. A second Halo, Flood resurgence, not to mention chasing the Prophet... It's getting dangerous out there. I'm just hoping she's alright."

Kelly put her hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "Sam, put things in perspective. She's a psychotic Hyper-Lethal Spartan who can beat Field-Marshals for breakfast. You guys survived the first Halo. With the aid of the Covenant Separatists, she will survive this one. Besides, Fol's with her with any luck, and John's not far behind. They'll pull through."

Sam chuckled. "Guess so. Still, that leaves peace-time after all this. Who knows how she will fill that up?"

She had to admit he had a point. Kalmiya had shown her some of Six' video logs of Halo. Purposefully laughing about the death of a crewmember of the Pillar of Autumn, the argument in that tunnel in the Library, her stunt with Fol... no, she wouldn't adjust well to the peace and quiet.

"I wonder how the Chief would adjust." Sam said out loud. "He, and the rest of us for that matter, aren't the best during peacetime either."

"John would find a way." She defended. "He always does."

Sam chuckled. "You miss him, don't you?"

Kelly turned to look at him. "What?"

"Kelly, we're not blind." Sam started. "You and John liked each other ever since we all met on Reach. Not to mention the training exercises where gets beaten up and you avenged him every time. In fact, the only one of us who hasn't spotted it is John himself."

"He has a point." Kalmiya interjected before Kelly could protest. Sam smirked. "See? Even the voice in your head agrees."

Kelly sighed. "Then there's no point denying it, is there?"

Sam nodded. "Yep."

She frowned, as she looked away. "If you guys knew all along, why not spill the secret?"

"something called privacy. And courtesy. Just because we know doesn't mean we should broadcast it across all channels. We're better than that."

She looked down at him in relief. "Thanks. Aside from our Spartan brothers and sisters, who else knows?"

Sam looked up for a moment, thinking, and then held his hand out, counting down on his fingers. "Halsey, Conroy, Mendez... I'm pretty sure Sergeant Johnson figured it out on his own... And that's it as far as I know."

Kelly considered that for a moment. So, at least nine others alive knew about her secret. Ten, if she included Kalmiya. That was a lot more people than she thought had known. Still, it wouldn't come as a-

A twig snapped behind them, and Kelly whirled around, one of her Plasma Rifles in hand. Sam stood up as well, grabbing his Helmet and one of his SMG's.

"You weren't followed, right?" Kelly asked, though she feared she knew the answer.

"No." Sam answered, as he tossed Kelly her helmet with his free hand. Kelly caught it, and hurriedly put it on. She covered Sam, as he grabbed all of his own weapons. In the end, he settled on his Minigun.

"Ain't that a bit big for this little cliff?" She asked.

"It's likely Forerunner." Sam answered deadpan. "With them, nothing's overkill."

They stood still for a few more moments, both aiming their weapons at the only entry point to this overlook, a narrow path near a cliff wall. If anyone wanted to reach them, they had to go through there.

After a minute, nothing showed, and both lowered their weapons. "Must have been the wind." Sam said nervously.

"There's no wind here." Kalmiya contradicted. "As you kno-"

Kalmiya was interrupted, as something suddenly materialized in front of them, making both raise their weapons.

It had a triangular body, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. It had two larger arms, one ending in a rifle, the other in some sort of blade. Then, just above the hips, two smaller arms emerged. It had a large back, with two circles attached onto the back. It had thin legs and arms, and a head that was likely a mask. Along its entire body, including the eyes, circles, blade and rifle, white light lined its features.

"What in Death's name is that?" Sam asked out loud.

"Forerunner defense construct." Kalmiya answered in a curious tone. "Beyond that, I have no clue."

"Friend or foe?" Kelly asked, as she stepped towards it.

It responded by raising its rifle, and opening fire on them. Sam provided covering fire, as Kelly dove into cover.

"Friend." Kalmiya said sarcastically. "Can't you tell?"

Sam continued to open fire on it, and Kelly got out of cover, getting her second Plasma Rifle out as well. But the thing, whatever it was, was too quick. It disappeared in a ball of white light, only to reappear a few meters away, making them miss their shots.

Sam had enough of it evading them, and got out his Rocket Launcher. He fired a single rocket behind it, and the explosion caught it. When the smoke cleared, however, it was still standing. It was flickering, like power within it was disrupted. It didn't move for a few moments, and Kelly opened fire on it with her weapons.

To her surprise, it didn't evade this time. Instead, it took the shots, stumbling with each one. Catching on to the fact it was stunned, Sam opened fire with his Minigun as well. After a few moments, the flickering ceased entirely, and it fell onto the ground. It tried to get up, but it didn't get the chance. Kelly ran up to it, and jumped onto its torso. Before it could slash at her with the blade, Kelly got out her Shotgun, and unloaded a shot into its face.

To her surprise, it didn't simply die. Instead, the entire body turned into an orange so bright that she couldn't make out any individual features. Then, the body started to fracture apart into a thousand glowing pieces, starting at the head wound her shot had caused. After that, it fell apart, the pieces fading away.

"Interesting." Kalmiya said. "That flash we saw as it faded away is actually a data purge."

"Can you tap into it?" Sam asked, as he inspected the area where the thing had fallen onto the ground.

"As a matter of fact," Kalmiya answered. "Already done. It's called a Promethean Knight. Beyond that, though, things get a bit dense."

Kelly kicked a rock near where it had first appeared, trying to see if it had used a portal similar to the one on Onyx. But it just skidded onto the ground, not teleporting away or anything. That meant that whatever it had used to teleport was carried on its person. She smiled. That meant their way to move on was nearby. All they had to do was steal one, have Halsey figure out how it works, and teleport them to the next city over.

"Here." Sam said, as he tossed her a cube-shaped item, which had similar lighting as the Promethean Knights.

"What's this?" She asked, as she inspected it. It had a single round button, and she was about to press it.

"Oh, likely some sort of grenade." Sam casually answered. Immediately, she moved her finger away from the button. She put it on her belt near the other ones.

A flash came from behind them, and they both turned to look. Her mood soured. Seven Knights stood on the small clearing, surrounding them. They blocked the area, and their only way out was to jump.

One jumped at her, tackling her. As she fell onto the ground, it landed on top of her. As she struggled to get free, it opened up its mask. The visage beneath was that of a skull, lined in white light identical to the rest of the body.

Before it could do anything, she managed to give it a punch. The space it created gave her the room to kick it off of her.

As she hurried to get on her feet, it raised its blade, despite being out of range. Anticipating its teleportation, she grabbed her shotgun, and as it appeared. As expected, it appeared in front of her. For its troubles, she gave it a shot in the face. It started to flicker again, like its shields were down. She gave it a kick, which landed it in two others. Als she scrambled to get up, the three she just attacked fell down.

She rolled into cover before the others could aim at her, inadvertently ending up beside Sam, who was reloading his weapons. "Hello, there." Sam said, not even looking up. Kelly crouched, and looked over her cover. She immediately ducked down, as weapons fire from the Prometheans nearly hit her head.

"Got a plan?" Sam asked. "Because it would be nice to have one right now."

"I'm still stuck at 'eliminating the threat'." Kelly answered honestly.

"Then that'll have to do." Sam said. "Kalmiya, contact the others. Let them know about these Knights."

From her cover, Kelly could suddenly see a very bright flash from somewhere in the city. A loud boom sounded shortly after that. Clearly, the others knew about the threat.

"They're busy." Kelly answered. "On three, give them everything you've got."

Sam nodded, and grabbed his Minigun with both hands. Kelly grabbed her shotgun in one hand, and held her Plasma Rifle in the other. As Kalmiya counted to three, Kelly braced. As one, the two of them got out of cover.

The Prometheans were ready for them, and opened fire on them. The shots hit their shields, and to her dismay drained them rather quickly. Every shot was three times as powerful as the average plasma bolt. Still, they held long enough for her to run to another piece of cover near the cliff wall. Sam stayed where he was, firing on the center of the group.

As she reached her cover, she observed a worrisome development. On one of the Knights, the back-armor started to shift, with certain parts separation from the main body. Suddenly, the separated part shot upwards. The circles now formed wings for some sort of aerial drone. And the drone started to provide an energy barrier for one of the Prometheans.

"Shit." She uttered. "Sam, target the drone."

"What dro- oh, that one. Targeting it now."

Heavy weapons fire started to echo across the cliff side, and after a moment, she heard a small explosion. She looked over, and to her relief the Drone had fallen apart.

Her relief was short-lived as the remaining Knights all deployed their Drones as well. They were outnumbered now, and outgunned as well. Seven Knights and six of the drones against two cornered Spartans. Part of her wanted to prove to them it was a bad idea to try and corner a Spartan, and try to defeat the odds. Try to prove that she was one of the best human beings alive.

But her rational part, the dominant one, told her to run, as she wouldn't live long if she tried that. She'd be shot before she'd made three steps into her charge. So, she turned to Sam, who was still firing away at them.

"It's no use." She called. "We have to jump."

With that, she ran towards the cliff edge, the one over the waterfall and the pool. She heard Sam call after her what she meant by Jump. She trusted he'd get the idea as she jumped over the edge. As she came near the edge, she jumped, using her momentum to fall over it.

Her fall lasted less than five seconds, and when it ended, she heard a splash, and she landed in the pool. She immediately sank to the bottom due to the weight of her armor. After a few seconds, she heard a second splash, and saw Sam land in the water as well. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she started to walk towards the nearest shore, climbing back out. After ten seconds, as she shook her armor dry, Sam walked out as well.

"Nice dive, but a bit on the inelegant side." Kalmiya said drily. "I'd give it a B minus."

"I'd give it an A if those things weren't attacking us." Sam said. "Did they follow us?"

Kelly looked up, towards where the spot had been. The things were looking down on them, aiming their weapons. After a few seconds they lowered them, and disappeared. She turned to Sam, and relayed the events.

"They're gone. No idea where, but they ain't following us."

Sam nodded. "Right now, I don't care. Look."

The heavy weapons expert pointed to the town. Kelly's stomach dropped as a lot of large flashes played across it. Flashes similar to weapons fire from the Promethean Knights.

"We need to help them. Come on!" She called, as she started running to the town. Sam followed close behind.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2553_

 _Location: Hood's personal office, Bravo-6, Sydney, Australia, Earth_

Hood had an angry look, as he saw Parangosky and Osman enter his office. And Osman knew, from what had happened today, that it wasn't going to get any better. Only worse. Not that she blamed him, though.

The day had barely started, and things were already going to hell. Someone well-funded and well-connected had hacked into Waypoint, taking it over entirely and locking the UNSC and ONI out of the systems for hours. Whoever did that knew what they were doing, as the only ones with the codes to do that were all high-ranking members in Fleetcom. That meant someone had a massive Info leak.

But it was what the attackers had done while they controlled Waypoint that had people in a ruckus, and what had Hood pissed as hell.

They had published every data file ONI had in its database. From the now-disbanded controversial Blackwatch Bioweapons Division of ONI to the personal files of every Spartan in existence. From the evidence linking ONI to the nuclear bombing of Insurrectionists and civilians at Mamore to the location and access codes of Nukes ONI controlled themselves... all of it was put out on the street, ready for people to grasp it. Even Infinity wasn't safe anymore. Not that it was a well-kept secret anyway, considering the budget had become so large the woodentop Navy had to be let in on the secret. Of course, Hood had immediately demanded joint control in return for the required funding, something Parangosky was in no position to refuse. But now, none of that mattered.

ONI was exposed. They had no way of keeping their bad acts hidden now. A lot of people wouldn't look kindly upon some of the worse details of ONI's crimes. Children being abducted, herself included, only to be experimented on at a later age for augmentations and to be turned into super soldiers. Not to mention that said augmentations had killed half of the children, and crippled a dozen more. In the end, only roughly thirty would become soldiers that day. THe others were dead, crippled or worse, like Soren.

She, Captain Serin Osman, was one of those crippled in the Augmentations. The only reason she was up and about at all was because Admiral Parangosky had found her, and had spared no expense in getting her back on her feet. Ever since, the Admiral had practically raised her, training her to be her eventual protege. Her replacement as the head of ONI.

That position didn't look as good now. 99% of the UNSC didn't know about the dark secrets ONI kept hidden, and it was that ignorance that kept people from crying out in protest and attempt to destroy ONI. Now that it was out, half of the UNSC would likely desert outright, and more would follow in the coming years. Only a handful of captains and admirals, loyal to either Hood or Parangosky would stay, and that was because they were too honor-bound to their duty to leave.

So yes, in Osman's mind Hood had every right to be pissed. ONI had failed. Their security had been breached in a big way, and if matters didn't change soon the UNSC itself could fall apart.

"Admiral" Hood greeted, as the Admiral entered first. "Captain. How nice of you to come on such notice."

Osman noted his tone was icy towards them. Clearly, this was going to be a berating of them. Osman grimaced, as Parangosky started to speak. "Listen, Hood-"

"NO, YOU LISTEN." Hood interrupted angrily, surprising both of them in a bad way. Hood interrupting someone was as rare as seeing Elites and Brutes being friendly with one another: nearly non existential. That was a true indicator for Osman how bad it was going to be. Same as the angry tone of voice.

Hood took a breath to calm his voice, before continuing. "You two screwed up big-time. Not only was your internal security breached, but your entire database was hacked, and put out there for the entire galaxy to see. I haven't had a proper look at what's out there yet, but in the hour it took you two to get here, I've had calls from hundreds of captains and the heads of state of two dozen Colonies, all demanding answers whether the info is true. If I don't give them an answer in the next three hours, they all threatened to desert, and with the answer I'm forced to give, they likely will anyway."

"Make that twenty six colonies, Sir." An elder voice interrupted. "The colonies of Meridian and Asgard have issued similar demands."

Osman turned to the holographic display on Hood's desk. Hood's personal AI, Odin, stood tall. He was dressed as the Nordic God his namesake was, and held an old spear. He was to Hood what Black-Box was to Parangosky and Osman.

"Thank you, Odin." Hood said, not looking away from the pair in charge of ONI. "You see my point? Your lapse of attention has brought the UNSC to the point of collapse in less than a few hours. Do you two have any explanation for this?"

"Hood, I know you're pissed." Parangosky started. "But these... terrorists, whoever they are, still have control of Waypoint. For every File ONI AI's manage to delete from it, three dozen copies show up to replace it. Every attempt to trace the origin of the signal is met with more firewalls than anything we've encountered before. Whoever did this has been planning this for months, perhaps even years."

"No, Parangosky." Hood corrected. "If we lost a fleet because of one of ONI's hunches, I would be pissed. If earth was attacked a second time by Brute extremists, I would be pissed. Hell, when we lost Reach, I _was_ pissed. But this... I am outraged."

Parangosky opened her mouth to snap something back at him. Before she could utter a word, however, Odin spoke up.

"Sir, we have an increase in activity on Waypoint. The terrorists are about to make one of their broadcasts."

Hood turned to the AI. "Put it on the main display."

"Yes, Sir." Odin answered, and he disappeared. The image on the display was replaced by the image that had dominated Waypoint for the past hour. A black background, with the words _Now unlocked: Uncensored ONI Files_ written in white on the foreground. After two seconds, it was replaced by static, before being replaced again a second later. It was an image of a black man in his late forties, with short-cropped hair and a small number of small scars on his face. He wore an odd uniform, which had the slight appearance as if the man wore a thin body-warmer over it. Behind him was the insignia of an eagle viewed from above, with the letters R.I.F written underneath it. It was used as the background, as the man spoke.

"To all citizens and military personnel of the UEG, this is Admiral Graves." The black man started.

Osman heard Hood and Parangosky take in a sharp breath. Clearly, they recognized the man.

"For decades, we have watched, and waited. Gathering the evidence you all can see right now: that the UNSC isn't the paradise you all claim it to be. If you haven't read some of the bad stuff, let me summarize it for you: ONI building Bioweapons under their front company Gentek, and their spec-ops division Blackwatch covering it all up by killing the whistleblowers, like Alex Mercer."

Hood turned to Parangosky in shock. "That was you?"

Before Parangosky could protest, Graves continued. "And your precious Spartans?" Graves scoffed. "Abducted as Children, being replaced by flawed flash-clones, the deaths of which were blamed on genetic diseases related to the Parents. Then, they were experimented on. Physical Augmentations which would kill nearly everyone else. And by Christ, half of them actually _did_ die. The rest were pressed into service by ONI, to serve as their hope against an ever-growing insurrection, which was already aware of ONI's crimes."

Osman didn't dare look at the others in the room right now. She was one of those kids. Parangosky knew it, and it didn't take a genius to know Hood had figured it out, too. But Graves didn't leave them any room to comment on it, as he continued.

"Now, I think you all get the picture. The UNSC condoned ONI's activities, purposefully keeping a very loose leash on them. Letting them perform these experiments."

"Disgusting." Osman heard Parangosky mutter.

"Now that the war is over, and humanity isn't on the point of collapse, I say enough. No more of this suffering, no more I humane experiments performed under the UNSC's watch. I ask anyone who's listening to join me in the Scorpio VI asteroid belt exactly Two years from now. I will escort you to an alternative society, where ONI isn't necessary, and where one can live without fear of repercussions for speaking out against me."

"Many of you will ask: 'why two years? Why not as soon as possible?' Simple. You need to think this through. Who do you wish to bring? Which belongings will you take with you? What do you want to do once you've joined my cause? All things you need to consider with desertion. And I'm not about to let you prowl in sadness just because you can't let your loved ones join you. "

"I welcome anyone into my ranks. Welders, businessmen, military personnel, families, units of tight-knit men... I turn no one down. All are welcome to join the Rebel Insurrectionist Front. I am Admiral Marcus Graves. And I'll see you in two years." The image disappeared after that, briefly turning black before show in the standard symbol for Waypoint, Earth with two satellites and their intersecting orbital paths visible over it.

It was silent in Hood's office for a long time. No one dared speak, either letting it sink in or not daring to risk Hood's wrath. The only who dared do so, in the end, was Odin.

"Well, that's just great." He finally said. "We've regained control of Waypoint, but every file has so many copies out there now that it's impossible to delete them all."

"Don't bother." Hood responded. "By now, any attempt to do so will only be perceived as us defending ONI's actions."

"What?" Parangosky asked, astonished. "You mean you won't defend ONI? A part of the navy, your own branch?"

"One that has been allowed to run unchecked for far too long." Hood retorted. "Mercer was a well-known genetics scientist. A well-respected young man, one I had taken a liking to. And you have him killed in cold-blood at Penn Station?"

"Is this personal, Hood?" Parangosky asked.

"And the Spartan children?" Hood continued, ignoring Parangosky's question. "You knew about their clones too, didn't you?"

Parangosky remained silent. And Osman couldn't blame her. She _had_ known about it, but only for a very short amount of time. In fact, she had only known for about a year that Halsey had secretly diverted part of ONI's funds to create the clones. Likely to save her own conscious, thinking that by giving the parents clone replacements without them knowing that it would 't be as bad. But, since she was not only the head of the project, but also a genetics expert, she _had_ to know that the clones would be faulty at best, and die out in a few years. Therefor, As Osman knew Parangosky saw it, it was _Halsey_ , not her, who was responsible for the clones.

But Hood wouldn't see it like the Commander in Chief of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Regardless whether Halsey did it on her own or not, she was still part of ONI, and thus Parangosky's responsibility. And with the entire ONI database out on the streets, every failure on ONI's part would be blamed on Parangosky, regardless of the fact Parangosky could actually be blamed for half of said failures. Osman had to admit, Graves had achieved his goal: ONI had become the UNSC's scapegoat due to this failure.

"We need to send a fleet in two years." Parangosky said, interrupting the silence. "If there are people going to defect, we need to contain them, bring them in for questioning, and-"

"No." Hood interrupted. "We will not hunt our own people. With the situation as it is, half the UNSC will defect, and the outer colonies will soon follow. You really want to detain over a hundred million people just to catch maybe a dozen infiltrators?"

"We can't just sit back and do nothing." Parangosky defended. "We need to take measures to clean up this mess."

"Oh, we will." Hood answered, with a tone of finality in his voice. "Odin?"

"The rest of the security council's approved, Sir. All that's needed is your word."

"What word?" Parangosky asked, slightly confused.

"While you two took your sweet time getting here," Hood explained "I sent a request to the UNSC security council. Heads need to roll here for your failure to protect our database, regardless of the threat Graves poses to the UNSC's integrity. Which is why the council has agreed... To discharge you, Admiral."

"What?" both Osman and Parangosky asked at the same time, as the reality of the situation hadn't yet sunk in.

"Simple." Hood said. "Your entire database was raided and exposed to the public in a single morning, the UNSC was asked to desert by a previously unknown adversary YOU were supposed to weed out for us, while Half was ready to take the rebels up on their offer, and you expect us to let you keep your job? Parangosky, you are many things, but not stupid."

Osman and Parangosky stood in shock for a moment. Parangosky had run ONI for over half a century, holding it together during the entire Human-Covenant war and most of the Insurrection. She had single-handedly made it from one of the UNSC's minor attempts at an intelligence department into the most powerful governmental entity in human history, destroying or absorbing all of her competitors along the way. If Hood was truly firing her, the security council was truly serious about the matter.

"You-... You-... You can't!" Parangosky finally managed beyond her shock. "I'm a part of the council, and I have a right to hear about this. I'm the head of ONI. You can't replace me."

"Under normal circumstances, no." Odin answered. "But consider these facts: You are a ninety two year old woman. Well past her prime. Granted, you held together admirably during the war that nearly destroyed humanity. But look at all the things committed by ONI under your watch: Genocide at Mamore. the Blacklight Virus experiments committed by Blackwatch, Gentek, and (forcefully) Alex Mercer. Child abduction and experimentation. Child soldiers. Do you think the UNSC can defend ONI when the people ONI, and _you_ , committed all these crimes? As for your say and vote in the council, consider them... revoked."

"And who would you replace me with?" Parangosky asked defiantly, though Osman could see in the elderly woman's eyes that there was no way she would win this. "Ackerson's dead, killed over Cleveland. And the council wouldn't approve of anyone else."

"The council was prepared to make an exception for this one." Hood answered. "And the person agreed upon stands in this very room."

It took only a moment for Osman and Parangosky to realize who Hood meant. There was only one person fit for the job. One person who had been by Parangosky's side for the latter part of her leadership of ONI, step by step. Only one person who knew every intrigue in ONI by heart just as well as Parangosky herself.

Her. Captain Serin Osman. Former Spartan trainee and current captain of the UNSC Port Stanley. Leader of the Kilo Five unit which had been responsible for keeping the Covenant disorganized by supplying Sangheili insurgents with weapons.

"Me?" She finally asked, pointing at herself. Hood nodded.

"You have been Parangosky's protege for years." Hood answered. "You have had a few small hands in leading ONI operations. Leading ONI is only doing what you've been doing for years on a larger scale."

Osman and Parangosky were both silent. She was shocked to be honest. Becoming the head of ONI, even if Hood was likely to put a lot of restrictions on it? That was quite a jump up from the mere captain of a ship. Likely, she now would be able to order a few ships around. Still, with power came responsibility... and accountability. And with the mess this morning had left ONI in, any mistake would be blamed on her.

"Very well, Sir." She finally managed.

Hood nodded. "Good. We have a meeting with the rest of the council in three hours. I expect you to be there... Admiral."

"Yes, Sir." Osman nodded. Then, she left the office, recognizing a dismissal when she heard it. Parangosky stayed behind, likely to discuss some final details with the admiral about what would happen to her. If she were honest with herself, she wouldn't be surprised if the council decided to court-martial her, or in the worst-case scenario even put her in front of a firing squad. God knows there will be thousands of volunteers lining up for the opportunity to shoot her.

Still, she started to plan in her head, already thinking of what to say to the council. She needs to offer a solution, and fast, in order to get ONI back in something resembling good graces. Also, she had to start an entirely new database. There was no use of the old one, now that it likely had hundreds of hackers with a direct link to it. No, she had to practically start all over, all the while being careful to make no mistakes at all. Or the council would have her head as well.

In order to do that, she needed advise from an old friend. One who had advised her in many matters, and who she had known for a very long time. The one who had supplied the weapons for her for her operations with Covenant Insurgents, and who knew what to do in a situation like this. The head of Empirical Enterprises

She made a call to him on her Chatter. As expected, he immediately answered. He always did.

"Nelson, can you meet me in an hour? I need to ask you for a favor."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown (Approximately six months after The collapse of Installation 00 Portal)_

 _Location: UNSC frigate Forward Unto Dawn, unknown space_

-and after the bombings of the cities Nagasaki and Hiroshima, the Country of Japan surrendered, effectively ending World War II." Cortana finished.

She and the Monitor were in heavy conversation, both recounting tales. They agreed that, for every major time period told, the two would switch up, so that they _both_ could learn something new. So far, Cortana was told about how the Forerunners came to power, their war with the Precursors and the near-extermination of humanity at the Forerunners' hands. She had surmised all that truly remained in greater lines was how the Librarian saved the human race by indexing it and adding 'Genesongs', as the Monitor called them: Genetic markers that opened up and motivated certain evolutions and developments, such the Mjolnir Spartan Armor, the ability for the Human Race to accept Augmentations, and even the development of AI's like herself. And, finally, the war with the Flood that lasted for centuries, ending with the activation of the Halo Array.

In turn, she had told the Monitor all about humanity's history. While he had absorbed a lot of data from the databanks of the Pillar of Autumn during the battle of the wreck of the ship, he had had very little time to sort, categorize and document it all properly. Cortana, in exchange for data on the Forerunners, was giving him a major helping hand sorting through it all.

"I see." The former Monitor of Installation 04, 343 Guilty Spark, finally said. "And the teachings of this 'Adolf Hitler' inspired the Revolutionists that exterminated a lot of European people around 2260."

"Indeed." Cortana answered. "Over a dozen cultures and languages, including Dutch, Finnish and Hundreds of dialects, were wiped out in those decades before the UNSC could put a stop to their activities. But we'll return to that later. As I was saying-"

A sensor alert went off on the Bridge, and alerted Cortana and the Monitor. The Monitor immediately sped there, while Cortana reactivated all of her subroutines. During their time adrift, Cortana went into her diagnostically mode. Basically, it reduced her capacities to a million times slower as usual. It effectively delayed Rampancy, as her thought processes were slowed considerably because of being in this state. It was the closest AI's had to being in Cryosleep.

It didn't stop Rampancy, unfortunately, merely delaying it to a million years instead of just seven. The downside of this was that her efficiency was down to the least of her potential. Basically, a seven year old child could accomplish things better than her in this state. Also, while in her Diagnostically mode, her primary programmings and directives could be altered by anyone, without there being a thing she could do to stop it. As such, AI's only went into such states in the rarest of circumstances. But, since they were adrift in the middle of nowhere, and with the damage she suffered at the Gravemind's hand, there was no reason not to go into diagnostic mode to save her life.

Now, as she brought herself out of it and went into her fully reactivated status, the damage became all too clear to her. In fact, unless they found a way back to the UNSC soon, she would start to go rampant within three _weeks_. The damage she had suffered at the Flood's hand must have been greater than anticipated. She didn't check up on herself immediately, due to the fact they needed to activate a replacement Halo, and then run for their lives. And later on, she had busied herself with telling the Monitor the tale of Humanity, and hearing his tale of the Forerunners in turn. But now, as she looked at herself, there was no avoiding it.

She would die. And soon.

The Monitor reached the bridge just as her reactivation process completed. She activated the monitoring screen of the sensor station, and used her avatar to guide the flying robot to it. "It looks like a Slipspace anomaly is headed towards us. At this rate, it will intercept us in thirty minutes."

"I recognize that signature." The Monitor said. "Forerunner in origin, and ancient. A Micro Dyson Sphere Core, by the looks of it."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Cortana asked. "Shrinking a Dyson Sphere and keeping it and the sun it orbits on the move _within_ slipspace?"

"Was it possible to exterminate all life in the Galaxy?" The Monitor retorted. "None of it seemed so at the time, until we tried and succeeded. We made them as additional shelters in the center of Shield Worlds against the Flood, with some being as large as Your Earth's Solar orbit. In emergency, if the Shield World itself is destroyed or compromised by intruders, the Core would close itself off and separate, flying to the nearest Forerunner stronghold to protect its inhabitants. I wonder is what one is doing here."

Cortana nodded, as she took it all in. "Do I need to wake the others?"

The Monitor nodded. "I would advice so. Some of the more remote ones were known to be used as prisons, and if this is one, we need to be ready."

Cortana nodded. "I cannot access the Stasis pods of the Elites remotely. Can you manually release them?"

The Monitor nodded, and went on his way to the cryochamber. Cortana, being a virtual presence on the ship, beat him naturally, and deactivated the two only active pods on the ship.

One contained Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson. A veteran of the Human-Covenant War, he had been present at every major battle. Harvest, Arcadia, Sigma Octanus, the Fall of Reach, Both Halo Installations, the Battle of Earth, the Ark... Johnson was a man who could claim he'd seen and done it all in the war and actually tell the truth at that time. He was also a survivor of the Orion Project, the very first attempt to create Augmented human supersoldiers. The Project, shut down because they cost too much in men and budget while delivering too little in results, was the predecessor of the Spartan-II program, and had in hindsight be renamed the Spartan-I program. The survivors, including Johnson, Wilson, Mendez and a handful of others, were given the Diagnosis of Boren's Syndrome, a disease fictitious in reality in order to cover up the symptoms.

The other held Spartan 117, the Master Chief, John Mattock. One of the very last Spartan-II's alive. He was humanity's very best soldier in existence. Abducted at age of six, and trained non-stop ever since, he was raised a soldier, alongside seventy four other children. At Age fourteen, he and the others were subjected to experimental Augmentations, greatly enhancing the speed, strength, reflexes and agility of some, while crippling and even killing others. John, one of the lucky ones to survive, became a full-fledged Spartan-II Supersoldier. He and his Blue Team were immediately thrust into the middle of the Human-Covenant war after picking up their armor, destroying a cruiser without casualties. They would end up losing brothers and sisters during the rest of the war, to both insurrectionists and Covenant alike. They would even lose their home and Humanity's Strongest Fortress, Reach, during the latter part of the war. The Chief survived, as did Blue Team, and gained a member in the Spartan-III known as Noble Six. They traveled to Halo, where they uncovered an enemy in the flood, a dangerous super weapon in Halo itself, which could exterminate all life in the Galaxy, and an unexpected ally in Fol Katarn, a Field Marshal from an eccentric Covenant Colony willing to ally with humanity. Battling his way to a second Halo, he pursued the members of the Covenant leadership across the Galaxy in an attempt to exterminate them all. He pursued the last one across the Covenant's capital, all the way back to Earth and later the Ark, where he stopped the Halo Array from being activated remotely, the Flood from infecting all life in the Galaxy, and escaping in the nick of time from being killed by an unfinished Halo.

And last but not least, he was also Cortana's partner. Her guardian, her protector. Just as she was his guardian and protector. Partnered since the fall of Reach, they had proven their worth to each other multiple times, and had developed an unbreakable bond over time. John had literally gone into hell, in the form of a Flood-Infested High-Charity, just to get her out of there. they cared for each other, the same way one cared about a friend who they know so long they lack a memory without them. They were to take care of each other, and Cortana could proudly say they did.

As she proved now by unfreezing him from his cryopod.

"Wake up, Chief." She said, as she unlocked the pod. The fog evaporated from the inside of his pod, revealing his helmet and upgraded armor. During his sleep, she and the Monitor had employed Nanites to upgrade the armor. It was now twice as durable, and had a slightly bulkier look to it, but was still the same green armor with a golden visor everyone instantly recognized as a Spartan.

"I need you."

* * *

John shook his head clear, as he started to wake up. He was surprised, and slightly panicked, as he suddenly bumped against against something, which had him trapped in very close confines.

"Chief, easy." Cortana's voice from outside calmed him. "You've been out for a while."

"Where are we?" He asked, as he looked around. As his vision and the fog cleared, he could see he was still inside a Cryopod. Beside him, he could see Johnson's pod, and in front of him, three Forerunner Stasis Pods that contained the Arbiter and his two Elite Special Forces soldiers, N'tho 'Sraom and Usze 'Taham.

"We're still adrift on the Dawn." Cortana answered. As she said this, the final occupant of the ship, the Monitor, floated past, and started to fire some kind of beam at the pods, deactivating them as well.

"Why did you wake me?" He asked.

"Hang on." Cortana said. "Bringing your armor's systems online now." Indeed, as she said this, his shield bar reactivated, charging to show the status was full. Also, his motion sensor and weapons indicators came online. He observed they were slightly different: brighter, more streamlined.

"Me and the Monitor upgraded the Armor while you were out." Cortana answered his unspoken question, as he started to inspect his armor. He noted that while it was a bit bulkier, felt just as light, and didn't inhibit his movements. Overall, the improvements seemed a success.

"You guys have been busy." He finally answered. After that, the pod opened, and he stepped out. Beside him Johnson continued to lay in the pod, despite the fact it was open. He walked over, and looked inside.

He had to restrain a smile. The sergeant lay on his side, his head resting on his hands, slightly curled up. Like he truly was just asleep. Johnson carefully tapped the Sergeant. "Time to wake up." He said.

The sergeant grunted. "Five more minutes." He heard the man grumble.

"Johnson." Cortana said calmly and in a friendly tone through the speakers, with the volume turned up to the loudest. "Usually it is the Sergeant who _does_ the waking, not the one who needs it."

Johnson, jumping out of the pod due to the loudness of the announcement, grumbled. "I'm awake, I'm awake. Keep your skirts on."

John chuckled, as he looked to his side. The Monitor had released the Elites, who were stretching a bit. He looked over at Cortana's avatar, who smiled as he approached.

"Seems like old times." She said cheerfully.

"Ready to get back to work?" He asked. Cortana crossed her arms in amusement.

"I thought you'd never ask." She answered.

He pulled her data chip from the pedestal, and slotted it into his head. At once, he felt the Mercury-cold sensation that indicated she had entered his head.

"We're on a collision course with a Shield World that's in Slipspace." Cortana explained. "ETA: two minutes."

He nodded, as he grabbed his weapons. "How long were we out?" He asked, as he headed for the vehicle bay, the others close behind.

"6 months, 1 week, 2 days." Cortana answered. "The Monitor already loaded everything onto Warthogs. Figured if we crashed onto some unknown world, we could leave immediately."

"Everything's loaded, Reclaimer. Weapons, Armor, Ammo, Food, Medical Supplies, tents... I've thought of everything."

John nodded, as he arrived. As the Monitor claimed, the Warthogs were put upright and loaded up. Two heavy crates sat on two trailers attached to the rear, and the spare spaces were all used for supplies. They were all securely tethered to the deck by cables, to ensure they didn't topple or move during the crash

"We wait here." He ordered. "If we do crash onto an unknown shield world, we can easily move out from the ship and explore the terrain."

"What if people intercept the distress beacon?" The Arbiter asked, as he sat down.

"I've adjusted the message accordingly. They'll know we're headed for shelter. Impact in thirty seconds."

Everyone braced. No matter how large a ship, a crash was always violent. Otherwise it would be called a landing. The Spartan saw a side room, and opened the door. Inside, as he expected with the layout of the ship, were the drop pods for ODST soldiers.

"Johnson, sit in one of the pods." He ordered. "Its armor will protect you should the crash take a turn for the worst."

"Y'know the things are nicknamed coffins for a reason, right?" Johnson quipped, as he got in. John shut the hatch, and locked it.

"Impact in three." Cortana counted down. Two. One."

Before she could finish, there was a loud roar, and a flash of white as he was flung into a wall. Then, silence.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2553 (two hours before council meeting)_

 _location: CEO's office, Empirical Enterprises Building, Sidney, Australia, Earth._

Osman quietly entered the office, and gratefully sat down in the chair CEO Leon Nelson offered for her.

Leon Nelson, founder and CEO of multi-trillion credit company Empirical Enterprises, was a tall and broad man, to the point one could mistake him for a Spartan out of uniform if one didn't pay close attention. He had green eyes and black hair, with a single white streak that was the result from a scar of a battle from the past. Said scar began just above his eyebrow and ended in his hairline, continuing in said white streak. He was quite an extraordinary man, in Osman's opinion. He had trained with ODST shock troopers, and even fought during the battle of New Constantinople, before retreating back into the world of business and economics. He had then started and founded Empirical, in order to supply the UNSC with better weapons and gear. Yet in the short time it had existed, it had grown from Nelson's hobby to a company that could rival Misriah Armories in mass-scale weapons production.

He was also a good friend of Osman. Having met twelve years ago, the man had supplied weapons for Osman's operations with Sangheili insurgents. Since then, the man had grown to be something of a confidante for Osman. Whenever she wasn't clear on what she needed to do, like now, she approached him for advice. In return, she used ONI to give him a heads up when a colony with his assets located on it would come under attack.

Now, however, she needed help of a different kind.

Nelson sat down in his own chair. "So, Osman. I haven't seen everything yet, but from what I did see, I can conclude this: You're chin-deep in the shit."

"Understatement of the year." She answered. "There are a lot of details involved, but it comes down to this: our database was hacked into and exposed to the public in a single morning, a previously unknown Insurrectionist extended an invitation to desert to all UNSC personnel, and from the looks of things, half the people will accept at this point. And to top it off, Hood and the Security Council had Parangosky fired."

Nelson raised his eyebrows in surprise, as he sipped from his coffee. "Old Maggie got busted? Hood must really be pissed at ONI to pull her away."

Osman nodded. "You have no idea. Now, with the situation as it currently is, Every Operation gone wrong will be blamed on ONI and me, regardless of whether it actually is our fault or not. I need to lower the heat on ONI in some way-"

"A very difficult task, to say the least." Nelson interrupted.

"and I have found a way." Osman continued, ignoring Nelson's comment. "But I want your advice before I go through with this." With that, she pulled the data pad from her bag and slid it across the desk. Nelson grabbed it and read it over.

Her plan was quite simple: ONI would fake the death of a very... _Capable_ person, preferably an ex-mercenary, and make them complete operations for ONI. If the operations go well, ONI will slowly start to recover some of their image in the public's eye. If things went FUBAR, the operative could be thrown under the bus, with ONI claiming the man worked alone. And, to ensure obedience instead of whistleblowing or desertion, a Nanite bomb would be implanted in the operative's neck. Of course, they still needed to find an individual who had the skills and fit the criteria in the file. But that came later.

"And this operation." Nelson finally asked. "Off the books? No records, digital or on paper? The council will never learn the details?"

Osman nodded. "You think Hood would approve of something like this? It involves kidnapping someone, faking their deaths to get them to us, forcing them to do our dirty work, and using experimental Nanite technology. No, Hood and the AI's loyal to him can't learn. And as such, there won't be any records of this."

Nelson looked down on the pad, obviously expecting something like this. "I don't like this. This is something Parangosky would have done, and not fitting in Hood's ideal world. If he learns of this, you're dead. And not as in screwed, but as in 'being put in front of a firing squad' dead. Not to mention that there are _very_ few people who fit your criteria."

Osman opened her mouth to agree, but Nelson raised his hand, silencing her comment before it could be made. "That being said, I think you should go through with this. ONI needs to survive this. No one else is competent enough in our area of expertise to replace us, and if you want ONI to continue existing, you need to be able to perform operations. And for that, as much as I hate to admit it, you need this operative."

Osman thought that over, as Nelson handed back the data pad. He had a good point: this was a Parangosky-kind of thing to do. If she were to get caught, she would indeed find her head on a pike along with a bullet inside of it. But right now, she had no choice if she were to continue her operations, she needed the operative.

"Speaking of hate..." Nelson continued "you owe me one. I managed to learn through my usual business channels that the council plans to put an overseer on you... and I managed to manipulate the selection choices. They will only see one person as truly fit for the job."

"Really?" Osman skeptically asked. "Only one?"

Nelson nodded, and pulled up a dozen images. She recognized a few of them, like The recently promoted Captain Keyes, MacCastle and Normandy, as well as the EverLasting Spirit's XO Kathleen Cutter, daughter of the late Captain James Cutter of the Spirit of Fire. All were naval personnel at heart... And not cut out to keep the Commander in Chief of ONI in line, and thus unsuited as overseers.

"Corruption, despite the distaste of it, has its uses." Nelson said. "I carefully modified the list of candidates to include either junior personnel, people with issues like PTSD that make them unfit for the task, or people so infamously incompetent even the Council knows of it. Leaving one exception you can make your plans with."

Nelson eliminated all the images except for one Russian Fleet Admiral. One she knew well, as he had tried to supplant her as Parangosky's protege of ONI.

Aleksei Levitsky. The guardian of Demeter's home fleet until the planet fell in 2546. As Osman recalled, the casualties had been high on both sides, as Levitsky's preferred tactics cost lots of soldiers. And a well-known hater of Insurrectionists. A plan was already forming in her head.

"Hello, Levitsky." She said out loud. "Oh, how I will put your tactics to use for me."

"Care to fill me in?" Nelson asked, confused.

Osman waved her hand dismissively. "Long version cut short: he will be the one to fight Graves' fleet for me in two years, I swoop in to save the deserters and let them get away, I gain a bit of favor with the council for my compassionate and brave act, and persuade them a overseer is counterproductive, Levitsky takes the fall of the pursuing fleet's cruelty, and we all go home a bit happier than before."

"A promising plan." Nelson admitted. "With two flaws: it takes a lot to push Levitsky that far, and Hood will see through it after he hears of the attack."

"Even if he does, " She answered. "without proof he has nothing, and Levitsky isn't the record keeper."

Nelson looked up at her knowingly. "Your AI Black Box."

She nodded. "BB is a prince among con artists, and claimed he could even frame the Archangel Gabriel for armed robbery. I think he can make anything Levitsky records in my presence disappear from the mainframes."

She got up. "Thank you, Leon. I needed that advice."

"You're welcome, Serin." Nelson answered. "Now if you excuse me, in twenty minutes I have a business agreement to make with Trident Industries."

Osman nodded as he dismissed her, and silently left his office.

* * *

 _Date: unknown (Approximately six months after the collapse of the Installation 00 Portal)_

 _Location: Hangar bay, Forward Unto Dawn, Unknown Micro Dyson Sphere Interior_

John shook his head clear, as he got up. Man, that had been a hard crash. Granted, he had felt worse after jumping from the Forerunner Keyship on Earth, but this came close.

He noted he was back in the Hangar bay of the ship, and moved over to the drop pods. As he arrived, he let out a sigh of relief. Johnson was alive, mostly unhurt, and already out of the pod he'd been put in and moving around on his own.

"Glad that wasn't _your_ Coffin, Sergeant?" Cortana joyfully asked. The human just grunted in response.

"Yeah. But next time, you join me. See how _you_ like it."

Inside his helmet, John smirked. If Johnson felt good enough to make remarks like that, he would be alright. He got out into the main hangar again, to check on the others.

The Arbiter and his Elites were clearly alright as well, as they were busy unlatching cables that had kept their Warthogs and trailers upright and attached to the floor. Miraculously, the contents hadn't spilled out across the hangar bay. Above them, the Monitor was busy with a console in the observation bay of the Hangar.

"What's our status?" John asked.

"I have good news and bad news, Reclaimers." The Monitor started. "The good news is that we have no fatalities or injured, and all our gear, weapons and vehicles are intact. Also, we have arrived at the interior of the Dyson Sphere, having somehow entered its interior. The bad news, unfortunately, is that we aren't leaving any time soon."

"Why not?" One of the Elites asked.

"The ship's a Wreck." The Monitor answered. "The bow has crumbled and bent beyond recognition, demolishing and destroying many systems and circuits along its way. Not to mention, the ship was separated in the middle, and the stern lies three kilometers behind the bow. Thrusters, slipspace drive, communications... All are offline at the moment. On Cortana's advice, I shut down the ships' reactor core to prevent it from overheating, melting down and detonating. But frankly, we are going nowhere."

John mulled that over. So they were stuck on another Forerunner creation with a handful of weapons, two warthogs and a load of supplies. Their way of reaching society was cut off while they were in here. Their food supply...

"Monitor, how long will our food supply last?" He asked.

"A month under normal eating habits, one and a half if you ration. This ship was well-stocked for the journey through the Portal when Johnson commandeered it."

Their food supply was plenty but not infinite. The ship was a wreck, but a good defensible position. He looked outside, as the Hangar doors eased open.

It was a pretty sight. At their sides, they were flanked by high walls of twelve meters high, likely their crash trail. The trail itself was also blackened, from the heat of friction as the frigate flew through the atmosphere and crashed here. But ahead, if he looked with the binoculars build into his visor, he could see nothing but beautiful hill lands and mountain ranges.

A hell of a terrain to cross without Warthogs.

Fortunately, they had those. He turned to the others, and began giving out orders.

"Monitor, leave the ship and fly up. Alert us to any city or other installation within visual range, regardless whether it's Forerunner or not. Johnson, look through the armory and make your own judgement whether we have everything we need. Bring back anything you consider... _Necessary_." He turned to the Elites. "Arbiter, you and me will get this Warthog ready. Red and blue, start on the other."

Everyone gave an affirmative, and went on to their assigned tasks. The Monitor sped past and went through the Hangar door to the outside, before immediately shooting upwards. Johnson ran deeper into the ship, towards the armory located above the Hangar. The Elites all started working on the Warthogs, and he moved to join them. As he finished with unlatching the cables, he opened a private channel to Cortana.

"Have you detected any UNSC signals in here? Or any of the Covenant Separatists?" He asked.

"No. But since the ship's sensor and com are offline, my scanning range is limited to that of your suit, AKA only a hundred meters until we find another satellite or antenna."

"Keep scanning." He ordered, as he put the cables in the trailer as well. They might come in handy later. "Without a means of transportation, the only way out of here is with outside help. And for that, we need to reach someone."

"I'll keep working on it." Cortana promised. "But for now, what do we do?"

"Depends on what the Monitor reports." He answered. "If he sees nothing at all, we stay here. The ship might be damaged, but she'll provide excellent shelter here. Not to mention we'll be found immediately should UNSC personnel find a way in here and detect the automated distress beacon."

"And if there is something within a reachable distance?" Cortana asked.

"We head there and investigate." He answered. "We're still within an unknown environment, and with little answers to what this place was used for. A massive ring world was used to exterminate all sentient life in the Galaxy, so who knows what the Forerunners did here?"

"I didn't know you had long-term planning skills for outside of combat." Cortana said, surprised.

"I don't _always_ rush head-on into things, you know." He quipped. "Just when it's more fun to do so."

 _"Aaaaand_ the caveman returns." Cortana responded in kind. "Long time no see, sir. You _do_ understand me, don't you?"

"Hardy-har." He sarcastically laughed.

The Monitor floated back into the Hangar just as the company finished entirely with the Warthogs. He floated over to the Spartan.

"Reclaimer, there is a single tall installation five hundred kilometers from here." The Monitor reported. "It's quite a long drive, on the other side of the eastern mountain range even. But it should be reachable with two or three days of driving."

He nodded. "Good. As soon as Johnson returns and packs up what he's salvaged, we'll mount up and start our drive."

"Speak of the devil." Usze 'Taham interrupted, and John turned to look. Indeed, Johnson had entered the hangar, with a small trolley behind him. As John looked inside, he could see the Sergeant had packed a few more heavy weapons, including the Spartan Laser he had carried on the replacement Halo. Beneath the pile, he noticed a lot of parts. Including one with a radiation warning label. John picked it up and looked it over.

"Why this?" He asked, as he turned it within his hand. Johnson grabbed it back, and gently put it in the cart.

"Just for myself. Trying to see if I can upgrade the laser's power supply, to keep me busy with all the time we will have on our hands."

He had to admit, the Sergeant had made a good point. They would have a lot of time on their hands, and an upgraded Spartan Laser would be a welcome addition to their armory. He helped the Sergeant tuck everything in the trailers, then helped the man onto the Warthog's back trunk, where the turret was located. He himself went into the driver's seat, while the Arbiter climbed into the passenger one. The other Elites climbed into the other one and got into the seats, with the Monitor moving to sit on the back end of the car.

"Let's roll out." He said, as he sped the vehicle to the hangar's exit and out of the ship. He immediately followed the crash trail until he could turn right. Then, he headed for the mountain range indicated.

* * *

 _Date: unknown_

 _Location: Forerunner City, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'_

Fred cursed himself for not having John's luck, as he covered Linda's climb to the top of the nearby tower.

To start it off, shortly before they had entered the Shield World, they had lost an incredible amount of Spartans: 14 in total. Ten missing trainees, two members of Saber Team, Will...

And Kurt.

Fred cursed once again. They had lost Kurt twice now. And this time, as much as he hated it, there was no way his death could be faked now. Normally, the death of a brother was painful enough on its own. But they had learned barely a few hours earlier that he was in fact alive instead of dead for two decades. To lose him again so soon after that...

Fred forced himself to move on, as he lowered his head to avoid getting shot in the head, cursing a third time. To make things worse, he had been promoted shortly before Kurt's death to the rank of Lieutenant, making him the highest ranking Spartan alive. Normally, he wouldn't have had a problem with this. He was used to having a commanding role, especially since personally he reformed Red Team after the original team's demise on the Spirit of Fire.

But in here, especially with Halsey and Mendez getting in more and more arguments, he was more and more forced to become a babysitter between two siblings that hated each other. At least, that's how exasperating and tiresome it felt.

And especially now, as he finished his reload and resumed firing on the odd Forerunner constructs, he cursed his luck and rank the most. These things had attacked while the majority of them were slacking off. In fact, a last-second warning from Tom and Lucy, who were on guard duty on the edge of the city, was the only reason they were alive at all. They had grabbed their weapons and opened fire on the things, soon being joined by Sam and Kelly returning from Patrol. And now, they were making a slow retreat towards the shelter.

The shelter was a small safe-like room underneath what they had assumed was a Forerunner equivalent to a bank. At least, they couldn't figure out what else it could be. It was a room with a central platform and a console. Once the door closed, the room was hermetically sealed, and no com signals would come out of it. That's what Halsey claimed, anyway.

They were in the final street, the one that lead to the building. The threes were already there, providing covering fire against the Promethean Knights and the crawlers. As soon as Kelly and Sam had returned, wet from a jump into the nearby water pool, they had fought, with Kalmiya briefing them all and searching for Intel at the same time. So far, she had only deduced names. The tall ones with reverse-triangular bodies were Promethean Knights, while the Drones were Watchers, an-

Fred ducked again, and forced himself to fall back even further, as the blasted Crawlers threatened to overwhelm him again.

 _And the last ones, the dog-like things with guns in their faces, were Crawlers_ he finished his thought. They had started to overwhelm them, and so he had Linda sent up onto a nearby watchtower and provide covering fire from above. It wasn't of much use, as for every Knight they killed, two more teleported in to replace them. It was systematic, well-coordinated. Almost like some presence was watching them and reacting to their moves.

"Halsey and Mendez are in the vault." Sam reported to Fred, using the most recent nickname for the Shelter. "All that remains are us Twos, Tom and Lucy." A short pause. "Correction: just the Twos. Lucy and Tom were forced to retreat into the Vault."

Fred sighed. "Halsey'll love that. Kelly, retreat back inside and help keep the peace. Sam, cover her retreat."

Both of them lit their acknowledgement lights in response, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Kelly retreat into the building. Realizing something, he opened a private channel to Linda.

"Retreat." He ordered. "We've been forced back to the Vault, and you're almost without covering fire."

"You need the extra seconds." Linda cryptically responded. It was followed by three more shots from above, and two Knights disintegrated. Of course, four phased in immediately behind where the two deceased had just stood, and resumed firing. Fred got out his laser, and pressed the trigger down to charge it.

"What the-?" Kelly cursed. "The Vault door slammed shut in my face."

" _Our_ faces." Kalmiya corrected. "And from what I could detect, it was remote control. Not Halsey's doing."

Fred cursed. Just what they needed: being locked out of the only safe place in the city. All while they were outnumbered, outgunned and cornered in that bank. The Threes had the weapons they had before they entered, mainly small arms like Assault Rifles and DMR's, but they had the majority of their supply of grenades. As such, he and Sam (he with the Spartan Laser, Sam with his Rocket Launcher and Minigun) were the only ones with true heavy weapons.

Except for Linda and her Sniper Rifle, who he knew were still in the tower, and to whom he still had a channel open.

"Linda, get down here _now_!" He ordered. "We're cut off from our escape, and cornered."

"And what about your covering fire?" Linda asked, as she fired more rounds into the Knights.

"Linda, unless you climb down, _you_ will be overrun. Get down from there, and we'll cover you."

He heard a grunt, before the channel was briefly closed. Likely Linda cursing him for his protectiveness of her. Then, she reopened the channel, clearly disagreeing with him.

But she followed his orders. "Yes, Sir."

He let out a sigh of relief. Then, he fired the Laser on the largest Promethean knight. As expected, the blast pierced the shields and the being itself, burning a hole through it and hitting the one behind it, repeating the process a third time before hitting the wall.

As Sam and Kelly ran out to help him cover Linda's descent, the Prometheans teleported in as a massive large group, having a good shot at them from everywhere. Frankly, no matter where they turned, they would be shot at by at least five Prometheans. Sighing about their predicaments, he got out his Battle Rifle.

To their surprise, the Prometheans lowered their rifles as one, and stood more at ease. Sam and Kelly shared confused looks, as they uneasily lowered their own weapons.

Before Sam could make a joking comment on it, a portal opened in front of them. Out of it stepped a mechanical drone similar in design to the Promethean Knights, yet far different from the standard Knights.

It stood two heads taller than Sam, and he already was nearly two and a half meters tall. It had a muscular body covered in parts magnetically floating around him. He had a colored broadsword in his head that was longer than a Spartan-III, and it was colored in the same white as the lights on the Knights. It had an decorative headdress not dissimilar from that of ancient human cultures, and the face was composed of the same floating miniature parts around the being, with the same white light as on the blade forming the background.

"Who are you?" Fred asked, as it approached them.

" ** _I am the Warden Eternal._** " The Being spoke with an echoing, ominous voice. " _ **I was the former second-in-command of the Promethean Warriors of the Forerunner armies, and current protector of the Guardians spread across the galaxy.**_ "

It raised its sword, and shifted into a combat stance. " ** _Your intrusion here alerted the guardian of this place, drawing me here. And your presence is not approved._** "

"Are you threatening us?" Sam asked, as he mockingly cupped one of his hands around where his ear would be were his helmet removed. "Was that a threat, Fred?"

" ** _VACATE THIS SHELTER NOW!_** " The Warden thundered, as he made a swipe at them with his sword. It released a white energy stroke which slammed into them. It sent them flying backwards with a massive force. Kelly and Sam respectively slammed into the door posts of the entrance of the bank, while he was sent flying into the building. The force of hitting the wall hurt, and downed his shields entirely. As he hit the ground on his feet, he struggled to stay upright.

"Yep, that was a threat." Sam grunted, as he got up as well. "What now?"

Fred's mind went into overdrive, as he reassessed the situation. Clearly, this 'Warden' was very powerful, as he showed no sign of exhaustion of loss of power from such a powerful swipe. Worse, its armor seemed nearly impenetrable, and that sword made attempting to get close suicide.

Then, he noticed something. Something that promised an escape.

The portal the Warden had entered through was still open, and showed no signs it was about to close anytime soon. He already had a plan in mind.

"Make for the portal, all of you." He ordered. "I'll keep it busy, and follow right behind." The three others all green lit their acknowledgement signals in response.

Fred, Kelly and Sam all charged forwards. But, to his surprise, Sam and Kelly both disobeyed. Sam tackled the Warden before he could counterattack, which only had the effect of unbalancing him. Kelly used the opportunity to fire her shotgun at the Warden's hand. It shattered it into a dozen pieces, making it drop its sword. The hand started repairing, with the parts returning to their place, but by the time it was restored Sam and Kelly had run past him and jumped into the portal.

Fred, while all this happened, charged his Spartan Laser for another shot. And by the time the Warden had recovered, fired the shot at the Warden's face. It let out a hurt, echoing cry, as the pieces that made up its face flew away due to the force of the hit. At the same time, a shot from above hit the Warden in the back, and he fell forwards.

Reminding himself to thank Linda later, he ran for the portal. As he reached it, he felt a sensation that reminded him of motion sickness similar to the variant that people suffered at sea. For a moment, whiteness was all he could see beyond his visor. But after that moment, he was in a large room, with a large black sphere with orange lights lining it.

Before he could further examine the room, something slammed into his lower back, and he fell forwards hitting the floor faceplate first.

He heard Sam chuckle beside him. "If I knew you guys liked each other enough to lay upon each other, I'd have given you a room together."

Fred looked up, and saw Sam and Kelly look down on him.

But, more importantly, Linda's helmet laying on his head. And the rest of her body awkwardly laying on his.

Kelly chuckled as well. "Kalmiya, I assume you are recording this?"

"Of course." Kalmiya said in a very amused tone. "John and Six will want to see this."

Linda rolled off of Fred, and both got up. As he got onto his feet, he looked at her. "How did you get through so fast?" He asked.

"Simple." Linda said. "I let go from the tower, and fell into it."

"And as a gentleman, you broke her fall." Sam chuckled. "Some chivalry."

Fred rolled his eyes, and examined the room. At the other side of the room, behind the sphere, was a control panel with two pillars. Two walkways led around some kind of Slipspace abyss below the sphere. In front of them, there was a two-way intersection that led to both walkways.

"Kalmiya, where are we?" Fred asked, as he looked around. It wouldn't be long before the Warden and his Knights would follow them back here.

"My best estimate: we are _inside_ the sun of this Dyson Sphere, and thus the very core of this place. The deepest place in here. What this place is, or why it's here, I Haven't a clue."

" ** _You shouldn't have come here._** " The Warden's voice threatened them. Immediately, a squadron of Knights backed up by Crawlers teleported in front of them. More appeared along both walkways... and the majority around the console.

" ** _You do not know what is guarded here._** " The Warden said, as he teleported in as well. To their surprise, he also appeared _three_ times near the console. " ** _If you reclaim what is inside that Cryptum, you could destroy the entire Forerunner Legacy._** "

Fred, tired of the Warden, charged his Spartan Laser as he talked, and fired. To Sam's credit, he also fired a rocket at the Warden, and both shots hit at the same time. The resulting damage was so great, that the Warden's pieces flew backwards, into the Slipspace abyss below.

"Considering you tried to wipe out all life in the Galaxy, I don't think that's such a bad thing." Fred responded. He turned to the others.

"The Warden wants us away from those Pillars, Blue Team. Obviously, he wants a fight."

He knew Sam smiled, as he said his usual response to such a statement. Even if it was usually the Chief that uttered the statement.

"Let's give him one."

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2553 (twenty minutes after the meeting between Hood, Odin, Osman and Parangosky)_

 _Location: Hood's Office, Bravo-6, Sydney, Australia, Earth_

Jameson Locke looked around nervously, as he entered Hood's office. He had just seen the files brought to light by Graves. To put it simply, he wasn't sure his ass was safe right now. Sure, he was officially part of a different branch, and transferred out of ONI. But with the data files and the dirt on ONI exposed, and with his former profession as an 'ONI acquisitions specialist' (a fancy name for a hitman, in his opinion), he felt like he had a giant bullseye painted on his back.

Even with the training he had received from Warrant Officer Jun and Commander Musa, and the Augmentations and armor that came with being a Spartan-IV, he didn't like his odds. After all, there were now many Spartans out there with a grudge against ONI and ONI personnel. And Locke didn't think they cared whether it was former or not. He didn't get that idea when he saw the composition of the team he was going to lead: An ODST veteran, an ex-engineer-turned-Marine from Minab, and an ONI translator who had turned out to be very proficient in both close-quarter combat and in small firearms.

The ODST was the leader of the infamousAlpha-Nine team, and had survived the entire night in New-Mombasa in the middle of the Covenant's invasion of the city. Granted, he had fought alongside a Spartan, a legendary member of Blue Team. But the Spartan himself had sent word to Jun about recommending Edward Buck for the Spartan-IV program. And if a Spartan recommended you to join his ranks, it was a massive compliment.

The Marine was a former insurrectionist, originally at least. Born on Minab while it was still in URF control, she had briefly sided with them before rejoining the UNSC while twelve. Since then, she had completed a study in Electrical and Mechanical Engineering, and joined the Marine corps immediately afterwards. A veteran of war despite her age, Holly Tanaka was their Technical expert.

The last one was an odd one in his mind. The Translator, while not much older than Tanaka, was three times as knowledgable in Covenant routines as Buck was. Stuck on a freighter with her mother, a high ranking ONI officer before her death, for six months when she was a kid, she chose to memorize the entire database of Covenant languages that were on the ship at the time. And she had become so proficient at the languages she even corrected a few mistakes in said database. After that, ever since she became of legal age, Olympia Vale had been deployed as a combat-trained field translator when an AI wasn't available, and had served at Crow's Nest alongside the Master Chief during the Brute attack on the base.

And then, there was him, of course. Jameson Locke. An former ONI agent for a long time, he had been active for a very large part of the war. During his time at ONI, he had honed two skills: good leadership, and threat assessment. He had become so good at the latter, that he had been asked by ONI to compose target profiles on the members of the Covenant that made the advance so successful. Like Thel Vadam, commonly known as the Arbiter, or Fol Katarn, known to many as One-Eye, since Noble Six had slashed an Energy Sword across his right eye in Aszod on Reach.

His threat assessment skills filled him with fear now, as he laid eyes on Hood. The man wasn't in a happy mood, with both the exposure of ONI's database and Graves' invitation for the entire UNSC to defect. Hell, Locke doubted there were many who would outright refuse at this point. The only thing that would save the UNSC was if ONI was to be disbanded. And that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

He noticed Hood wasn't alone: there was a man with him. Mid to late thirties, black hair and blue eyes, and a serious look permanently etched onto his face. A soldier by the looks of it: he stood straight, his SCAF uniform was flawless, and he wore his sidearm. Both men turned to look at Locke, and he saluted.

"Sir, permission to enter your office." He asked.

"Granted." Hood said with an exasperated tone. Clearly, he had had a long day. "At ease. I'd offer you a seat, _Spartan_ Locke, but I doubt it would hold your weight with your new augmentations."

The way Hood said the word Spartan gave Locke some relief. It was calm, reassuring, and without a single trace of anger. Clearly, Hood wasn't angry with Locke's former status as an ONI agent.

"Allow me to introduce you to Captain William Lennox, the second in command of General Mahad of-"

"Of the Sovereign Colonies Armed Forces." Lennox interrupted Hood. "I'm certain Spartan Locke knows who I am, considering his last occupation."

Hood, not pleased with being interrupted, frowned. "Of course, Captain Lennox. But it's polite to introduce people."

Lennox nodded. "Point taken."

Hood turned to Locke. "Now, Spartan. I have a mission for you, and Musa and Jun have already cleared your team for it."

Locke, knowing any mission at all likely meant he had time away from resentful UNSC personnel, took it. "What is it, Sir?"

"A Sovereign Colonies Mining Vessel, the USG Ishimura, has failed to report in. A repair team was sent to check up on them for any problems, but they've failed to check in after boardiong. Likewise with a military response team sent shortly thereafter. Mahad's forces are occupied by Brute pirates harassing his boarders, so he's asking for the UNSC's best to fill the gap."

"What's the ship's status?" Locke asked, as he calculated and assessed the situation.

"Located over Aegis VII." Lennox answered. "A remote Sovereign Colonies mining colony rich with many mineral ores. Silver, Osmium, Iridium... Name an ore and it's likely that Aegis VII has a large vein of it somewhere. Shortly after a planet-crack of the richest region, however, we lost contact."

"We already crossed away an equipment failure." Hood finished. "A scan made by the repair team showed the com equipment was fine. It's just that no one's there to pick up the phone."

Locke frowned. "Unusual for a mining vessel. The USG-class vessels are massive for their line of work." He paused, an idea occurring to him. "Has there been any pirate activity near the system, human or Covenant?"

"No." Lennox said. "But that doesn't eliminate the possibility. As to who it really is... let's just say I asked Hood for help finding out, and he said you're it."

Hood nodded. "Your mission's simple: accompany Captain Lennox and his team to the Ishimura, help them establish what's wrong, and fix it."

Locke nodded, although he suspected there was more behind it. Why would Mahad, a known paranoid tyrant in the Sovereign Colonies, send his second-in-command to a simple investigation and a Possible repair mission? In addition to asking for Spartans, for that matter? True, with Blue Team and the Master Chief gone they were the best, but there was no way Hood or Musa would have sent them unless Mahad had asked specifically for them. Which meant there was more going on than just a loss of contact.

And the easiest way to get the answer lay with Lennox.

"Osiris will get it done, Sir."

* * *

 _Date: unknown (Approximately six months after the collapse of the Installation 00 Portal, Three days after crash landing of the Forward Unto Dawn)_

 _Location: Closing in on Unknown Forerunner Installation 500 Kilometers east of Forward Unto Dawn_

John looked in the rear-view mirror, as they final exited the canyon. It had taken over three days for them to drive from the wreck of the Forward Unto Dawn to this place, mostly because of the hills turning into mountains, and the terrain becoming nearly impossible to drive on. It was a miracle Spark had managed to find the canyon as a shortcut, or else they would have had to drive around the entire mountain range. A journey that would have taken months, for which they had neither fuel, food, patience or desire at all. But they were finally closing in on the Forerunner tower Spark had found.

John's mind started to stray for a few minutes. He wondered where the rest of Blue Team was, and what they were doing right now. Now that the war was over, their mission for Halsey likely would be as well, and they would have returned. To hear of him being missing in spa-

No, scratch that. He was missing for months, or likely even a year by now considering the delay of traveling through the portal. UNSC High Command would assume he was dead, and ONI would publicly declare so. Blue Team would thus think likewise.

He tried not to think what the others would do. Linda, the lone wolf of them all, likely would be the first to move on. She always managed to recover quickly from blows like that, and he didn't think that would change now. Six would likely remain Kaidon of that Sang'Katarn colony, due to a need to keep the peace. Fred and Sam would likely continue to serve in the military, after a short leave to deal with the grief of his loss.

But Kelly...

She had always been the most emotional of them all, and the two of them had always been close. His death would heavily weigh on her, and she likely wouldn't recover from the loss. The friendship between them was the closest any of the Spartans had ever had. Well, except for what Fred and Linda had, but out of courtesy he never openly talked about it, and rarely thought of it.

"You're thinking of them, aren't you?" Cortana asked, interrupting his thoughts. Her voice was in his head, indicating the discussion was private. Still, he involuntarily flinched a bit. In High-Charity's wreck, the Gravemind had spoken to him in a similar manner. And it had hurt so much that he still flinched every time Cortana's voice was inside his head instead of the helmet speakers.

"Yes." He answered. "Wondering what the others are doing right now. With us disappearing for six months after the Portal's collapse, combined with the months the others were stuck in the portal on the way back, makes almost a years since the mainstream UNSC last saw me. And you know standard UNSC protocol about that."

"After nine months of no sightings and circumstances that put your survival in doubt, and a collapsing Slipspace falls into that category, you will be declared KIA." Cortana said knowingly. She let out her own sigh, before continuing. "Look, they might think you're dead. But at least _they_ are alive. Shouldn't that ease some of your worries?"

"Alive and alright are two different things."

"Nothing you can do about it from here. If you get out of here, on the other hand..."

Pointedly reminded why he was driving at all, he returned his attention to the tower ahead. Johnson and the arbiter sat relaxed in their seats, oblivious to the conversation Cortana and the Chief just had.

After fifteen minutes, he finally came close enough to identify an entrance. It was a large circular opening with two statues flanking it. As they came closer, and the convoy of two vehicles slowed down, the Monitor told them who they were.

"The left one is the Librarian. She was the one who preserved Humanity when the Forerunners defeated your race and were about to exterminate it, by sending specimens to the Ark for preservation and later reseeding. The right one is the Didact, the Promethean Supreme Commander of the Forerunner Military. He wished to have your race exterminated, for both the fact the Precursors favored your kind over the Forerunners, and the fact you resisted their attempts at genocide valiantly, killing millions of Forerunners before being subdued."

"Charming." The Arbiter said, as they got out of the Warthog and continued to look at the statues. "I wonder what they were like when they were alive."

"You don't." Cortana answered from his helmet speakers. "The Didact viewed the Forerunners as better than any other race, viewing them as mere primitives. And he held a special contempt for humanity due to the points the Monitor mentioned.

"And how do _you_ know that?" John asked, surprised she knew this much about the Forerunners.

"Simple, reclaimer." Guilty Spark answered for her. "While you were all in cryo/stasis pods, Cortana and I talked with each other, catching ourselves up on each other's history."

So the Monitor knew a large part of Humanity's history. That meant he wasn't as ignorant as they all assumed.

They all gathered, as N'tho and Usze got out of their Warthogs as well. "How do we deal with this?" Usze asked.

"We split into two groups." John answered. "N'tho, Usze: you two guard the Warthogs. We don't know yet if the place is inhabited or not, and the last thing we need is some natives stealing our vehicles. Everyone else goes with me inside that tower. If we are going to find out how to get back, this is as good a place to start as any."

The two Elites nodded, and stayed with the Warthogs as John and the others went between the statues and inside the tower. As they went in, they arrived in an enormous hall, with incredibly tall pillars floating on either side of them. The ceiling, John estimated as he looked up, was over a hundred meters above them, with only a single walkway between them and it. The pillars ended at similar height as the walkway.

"Ah." The Monitor said in recognition. "The Cathedral. An information hub in case the Domain was ever inaccessible."

John let out a sigh of relief. While it was no way back to UNSC space, it would certainly help to have a clue as to what this place was, not to mention knowing whether they were the only ones here or not.

"Can we access it?" He asked.

"The closest access point is directly above us." The Monitor answered affirmatively. "On the walkway above us, to be precise."

"Hate to break it to yah, Lightbulb." Johnson stated in an annoyed tone. "But unlike you, the rest of us can't fly. How are we going to get up there?"

The monitor answered by firing a beam of light at the middle of the hallway. Instantaneously, a circle slightly rose from the floor, along with a console. It didn't take long for the Chief to figure out the Monitor had reactivated an elevator.

"By Elevator, Reclaimer." The Monitor answered, stating the obvious. "Shall we?"

The others answered in the form of jogging towards the Elevator. As they jumped (or in Johnson's case climbed) on, the Monitor floated upwards. Halfway up his descent, however, he stopped and looked down.

"Get on it then, Reclaimers." He tried to hurry them along for some reason. For a moment, John was confused as to why. But then the Arbiter looked around, and was the first to notice why.

"Uhmmm... why aren't we moving?" He pointed out.

John immediately caught on, and looked to Johnson, who stood closest to the console.

"Johnson?" He asked. The Sergeant looked his way quizzically. Exasperated, he pointed to the console, which only had two buttons.

"The button?"

Johnson quickly glanced to the console in surprise, and flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh. Sorry, Chief." He hurried to the console, and pressed the uppermost button. As they expected, the platform finally started to rise. It took about fifteen seconds until it was at the same level as the Monitor, and continued to rise. The Monitor continued to float alongside them at head level.

After another fifteen seconds, they arrived at the top, level with the walkway. John marched to the console now visible at the other end, with the others close behind.

As he arrived, he inserted Cortana into the systems. Her avatar appeared on the console, turned towards it, along with a list of Forerunner glyphs he couldn't hope to translate. The Monitor floated alongside it.

"Alright." Cortana started. "Let's see where we are. Cracking the security..."

"Isn't that far too advanced for you to crack?" Johnson interrupted.

Cortana let a smirk show, as she briefly turned to Johnson to answer. "I cracked Halo's systems, didn't I?" She returned her attention to the console. After a moment, John could see a smile on her face.

"I'm in. This is Forerunner shield world designate Sarcophagus."

The Monitor immediately stalled, stopping his fall only moments before he hit the walkway.

"Come again?" The monitor asked alarmed. "Did you say 'Sacrophagus'?"

Cortana turned to them. "Yes. Why?"

The Monitor's eye brightened in alarm, and he briefly turned away from them, mumbling to himself. The only intelligible thing John could hear was 'We should never have come here.' In the end, Johnson had enough of the wait, walked over, and beat with a fist on the Monitor's chassis. "Hey, tinker-bell. You still ticking in there?"

The Monitor turned to them, and his light had visibly dimmed.

"You recall what I had said about the Didact? That he was supreme commander of the Forerunner Military, and that he had extreme contempt and hatred for Humanity" the Monitor's voice was subdued, almost in fear.

"Considering you mentioned it barely five minutes ago, yeah we do." Johnson said sarcastically, missing the Monitor's change of tone.

"Well, this is the end of the tale." The Monitor started. "The Forerunners had attempted many things in their efforts to stop the Flood. The Lightway Engine to send us all away to other galaxies, a pathogen to stop a Gravemind from forming and depriving the Flood of a strategic presence... Many things were attempted before we resorted to galactic Genocide. One of theses was the Composer."

Johnson feigned a yawn. "Very interesting. But how does thi- AAAW" the last bit came from John giving the Sergeant a soft hit at the back of the head for his rudeness. Normally, he only did that with his teammates, and it wouldn't hurt. But even a soft hit from a Spartan in armor could hurt like hell.

"I'm getting to that." The Monitor answered anyway, ignoring the mood of the commotion. "But anyway: The Forerunners attempted to transfer their bodies from the biological to the digital realm. It would make Forerunners immortal. Long story short: the transfer from biological to digital succeeded. The process back was what had my creators perplexed."

"I take it didn't go well." The Arbiter commented. The Monitor shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. The original digital bodies turned into abominations, and the personalities of the test subjects didn't survive. The Didact, however, had another use for them."

The Monitor brought up an image of a Forerunner combat drone with a reverse-triangular shaped body, with a rifle as one arm, and a blade as another.

"He stored them in these Combat Drones, which were forever known from then on as Promethean Knights. They were all led by a central, more advanced Promethean that, although only possessing a single mind, had 240.651.783 bodies at last count over a hundred Millennia ago. He was known as the Warden Eternal."

The Monitor changed the image from the Promethean Knight to a tall humanoid being with an excessively detailed helmet and a large sword.

"Together, The Didact and the Warden used a prototype of the Composer on a massive city on Erde Tyrene, the original Human Homeworld. Converting millions of humans into Promethean Knights, the Didact used this army and its new commander to lead a massive attack on Humanity. He was only stopped when the Librarian and her forces apprehended the Didact, took the Composer from Promethean care, and pacified the Knights."

"What happened to them?" John asked, as he and the others listened to the story.

"The Warden and the Knights were reprogrammed, and became the protectors of the Guardians and the Shield Worlds." The Monitor answered. "The Didact was put into stasis in a Cryptum, which was put into storage at the core of Requiem. However, near the end of the Forerunner-Flood war, Flood forces came closer and closer to Requiem, forcing us to move his Cryptum-"

"To Sarcophagus." Cortana finished with growing apprehension and realization. The Monitor nodded.

"Yes. We are standing in the prison of the Didact."

Johnson, suddenly a lot more nervous, let out a sigh. "Ok, I get why we're serious about this. But why the fuss? All we have to do is avoid his cell and we'll be alright."

"I'll check, just to be sure." Cortana immediately said. After a moment, she pulled up a massive digital map, which started to zoom in on the sun that was the core of the Dyson sphere/shield world. "Got it. Like Requiem, The Cryptum has been located at... the... core..."

Cortana trailed off, and her face showed increasing alarm. John immediately moved over to have a look himself. Cortana hadn't zoomed in enough, however, for him to have a good view. All he saw was a massive chamber, with the Cryptum as a dot at the center with a walkway and a console surrounding it.

"What is it?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

Cortana finally turned to him, and he saw true horror on her face. "Chief, four humans are on their way to the Cryptum _right now!_ And I can't access any com systems to warn them from here."

Cortana zoomed in on the Cryptum. Indeed, he saw four figures fighting off a swarm of Promethean Knights, with here and there a body of the Warden thrown into the mix. By the looks of it, they were making good progress, and were for some reason quite adept at fighting off the Promethean forces. He estimated they would reach the console to unlock the Cryptum any second now.

He whirled to the Monitor. "Can you access the Telepor-"

"Chief." Johnson interrupted with a calm voice. An _uncharacteristic_ calm. "Have a _real good_ look at those humans."

To humor the Sergeant, John turned back to the hologram that displayed the Cryptum's room. He looked again at the four humans that had now reached the platform with the console.

And then he noticed. He finally noticed why Cortana and Johnson were so alarmed, and why they really needed to hurry. There was no way four normal humans could survive against so many Promethean Knights with little to no cover. That could only be done by Spartans. And one look at the armor configuration told him _exactly_ who they were.

They were Sam, Kelly, Fred and Linda. The other members of Blue Team.

* * *

 _Date: 12-01-2554 (689 days until the 'Graves Exodus', and 41 days since the Publication of ONI's database)_

 _Location: Pelican of Fireteam Heracles, en-route to New-Tyne, Venezia_

"That's it." Rosenda said in her usual cheerful tone. "I'm shitcalling our code names."

Fol sighed and threw his head back, as they flew towards New Tyne. They had briefly been called off of their hunt. An ONI black-ops team that had been running operations in the insurrectionist capital had been exposed and come under attack, and they, by chance also on Venezia because of another lead on Cerberus, were the closest ready to assist. Granted, it had taken General Holland fifteen minutes to persuade Six and Rosenda, but the elder general had managed to do it.

Six had been angry, but like usual these days said few words. The hunt for Cerberus had been a good idea at the beginning, and it needed to be done. But with the massive amounts of false trails out there, it had been agony to sort through them all. Most of them, like the one at Empirical Enterprises, had been a dead end: there were no Cerberus units present, any possible data files that could contain a lead Zeus quickly discovered to be useless, and the people had barely heard of Cerberus units at all. Gharenshak, one hadn't even heard of the _word_ Cerberus before.

With the long amounts of travel time, and the little activity the others had to do as one of them searched, it could almost be called a vacation.

He turned to Rosenda, as they were approaching the city. "And why, _this_ time, are you doing it?"

Rosenda turned to him. "Fireteam Heracles? _Really?_ Who picked the names?"

"I did." The male voice of Zeus came across the PA system. "Heracles, in Greek Mythology, captured Cerberus, the hound of Hades. As we are going to do with the Cerberus units we encounter."

Zeus was the upgraded variant of Six' AI partner void. Originally the ship's AI of the ONI Prowler Hidden Veil, the AI had been put into Six' head in a similar manner to the Master Chief and Cortana, and stuck with six ever since. shortly before this vacatio-, eh, mission, Void had felt it was necessary for him to upgrade, in order to be more prepared when Cerberus units came after him. But the upgrade resulted in him being changed so drastically, he even got a new name, Zeus. now, he served as the command line that connected all three of them.

Rosenda turned to the closest Speaker. "Yeah. But come on: our ship is called the Bifrost. You are Zeus. Christ, you tried to call the Pelican the _Charon_. What is it with you and Ancient Mythologies?"

"To be fair" Fol admitted "it would be correct to call us the ferrymen and women of death."

"That's beside the point." Rosenda dismissed, as she donned her CQC helmet. "I want new code names."

"ETA is 30 seconds." Six interrupted, as she walked into the troop bay. Her armor was already on in its entirety, and she already had her Katarns, her DMR and 'Demon's Flame' Grenade Launcher stowed on various slots on her armor. Like usual now, it was the standard version of the Reach Armories, the only exception being that she wore the Pauldron Armor Plate Fol had taken from Emile on Reach, and an identical model on her other arm, to match the design and make it more symmetrical.

These days, she always prepared separated from the others, and Fol had only seen her relax once. And that was when he had accidentally caught her sleeping, passed out from exhaustion. She had been so dedicated at finding Cerberus that she had been taking shifts for others in searching all the possible leads and files. But she had done so non-stop, doing nothing else all day, and after catching her in the act of sleeping during her shift, he and Rosenda refused to let her take over more shifts.

Now, as she prepared to exit the Pelican, he saw she was restless. Likely because she didn't want to deviate from her hunt, and desired to have this over with so she could continue.

"Zeus, after the Charon is emptied, hover above triple-A range until we give the signal." He ordered. "Don't want any Kig-Yar scavengers stealing our escape vehicle."

"Of course." Zeus said, as he opened the hatch. As he'd noticed in combat footage of her, Rosenda was the first one out, doing a backflip as she jumped out. Six merely stepped over the edge, and fell down. Fol was last, making a jump.

They all dove for five seconds before landing in an alleyway. The plan was simple: Heracles would clear the area of the black-ops team of immediate threats, and they would signal Zeus for pick-up. He would get them all back to the ship waiting for the team, and they would both go their separate ways. A simple plan.

Unfortunately, as he'd learned over his many past campaigns against humans, no plan survives contact with the enemy.

As they exited the alleyway, they immediately came under attack. Fol raised his Assault Rifle, and took down the nearest rebel he could see: A sniper on a rooftop.

The team they were rescuing was pinned down in a marketplace located on a large square in the center of town. Clearly, the Rebels had thought this through: exposing the team somewhere public and pinning them down in the center of a junction of roads so that the team was easily surrounded. And now, the team needed an opening made for them.

They would get one.

Fol continued to fire on the snipers on the roof, who were trying to pin them downin that alleyway. Little did they know, the large Elite had two Spartans with them. Rosenda and Six kicked in an adjacent wall, and went into the building. They immediately moved through it, and flanked the main group of soldiers, who were running towards Fol in the middle of the street. The soldiers, distracted by the fire coming from the Windows, didn't notice as Fol rolled a Frag grenade into their midst.

The explosion created quite a mess, killing most before they could even scream. The rest were quickly put out of the fight by Rosenda and Six, who jumped through the windows and killed them with their combat knives. Fol shot the last Sniper down, and came out of the alleyway.

"How far until we hit the market?" Fol asked as he reloaded.

"Three hundred meters down this street." Six answered matter-of-factly, as she pointed down said street. "Kilo-five's in the middle of it."

Fol nodded, as he looked over the gear they all had. Fol, as usual these days, had an Assault Rifle, a Fuel-Rod gun, and his two Katarns. As such, he was their heavy-weapons fire support. Rosenda had a Sniper Rifle, a Battle Rifle and a Shotgun for close quarters. Since most of her weapons were ranged weapons, she would split up now and provide them sniper cover. Six, who still had the weapons he'd observed on his Pelican, was their close-quarters expert.

Rosenda split up by climbing up the side of an apartment building. After a moment, she disappeared over the edge, only to catch a glimpse of her as she jumped over to the next building.

Six started to move on into the street, and he moved on right behind her, covering her back. Just because the street was clear for the moment didn't mean it would stay that way.

After a moment, they arrived at the end of the street and into the marketplace. It was chaos. Multiple stalls were on fire, and smoke blocked out the entire sky. People ran amok in every direction in an effort to get away from the chaos, some of them covered in blood. At first glance of them Fol couldn't even tell if it was their own blood or not.

"Kilo Five is in the center of all this." Six reminded them with an even voice. "Lets do this quick before local forces intercept us."

"Why?" Rosenda questioned. "Let them come. I can rack up the kills that way. It's like shooting fish in a barrel down there."

"Because we, and Kilo Five, will be in that barrel as well." Fol answered. "And if it's a barrel for you, it's a barrel for the rebels as well."

Rosenda sighed as she relented. "Very well. I'll cover your Six. No pun intended, by the way."

"Oh, really?" Fol challenged.

Before the banter could continue, shots came from behind one of he fruit stalls, and both Six and Fol dove into cover in opposite directions. As he came back onto his feet behind a fallen metal sign of a hotel, he saw Six was giving him covering fire, and thereby also diverting attention away from him.

"Rose, cover me." He ordered, using his coined nickname for Rosenda. She heard him, for after that statement three shots echoed across the square, and he noticed two positions stopped firing at them.

He got from his cover, and ran towards the position of Kilo-Five, darting between stalls along the way. Miraculously, he was attacked only once, by a rebel armed with a shotgun. He simply grabbed his Energy Sword, pulled the rebel towards him before he could fire, and stabbed her in the stomach. He moved on before she'd even finished falling to the ground.

He found them in the center, near a fountain that had a chunk blown out of it by an explosion. He saw three clear figures inside: two human soldiers who were clearly ODST's, and to his mild surprise, a Spartan out of armor. Spartans were supersoldiers meant for missions on the battlefield, or behind enemy lines and to disable things from the inside. They weren't usually trained for undercover stuff like this. That meant whoever had assigned the Spartan here had anticipated a fight.

He dove behind their cover, and raised his hands to show he meant no harm. As the first one noticed his presence, he briefly raised his rifle. The other two, seeing the reaction, did so as well.

"Easy." Fol said. "I'm with Fireteam Heracles."

The others, recognizing the name, either lowered their weapons or fired over their cover at other enemies.

"So you're our getaway?" One of the ODST's asked with an accent Fol vaguely recognized as Russian. Fol nodded in response.

"Our Pelican's standing by. As soon as the immediate area's cleared, he'll come in and pick us up."

"Good." The other ODST responded. "Because we overstayed our welcome here."

"No shit." Rosenda responded over their com. "I count over two dozen hostiles surrounding you, and a hundred more coming this way from all directions. You're about to get busy, Fol."

He rolled his only functioning eye. "Of course."

"You still want to do this routine?" Rosenda asked, as he heard four more sniper shots echo throughout the square. "Because that's a lot of foes, even for you."

Fol let out a chuckle. "Weren't you a member of Noble Team? I thought you enjoyed tough ops."

"I know, I know." Rosenda cursed in an exasperated tone. "It wouldn't be a Noble mission if it were easy."

Fol smirked, and got out of cover, as he prepared for the firefight.

And cursed. A Phantom gunboat was coming their way. And judging by the colors it held, it wasn't one of the Swords of Sanghelios.

But one of the URF.

"Take cover." Six called out from somewhere he couldn't see, as he heard her fire her grenade launcher at it. It came from his right, and hit the gunboat at one of the side engines. It exploded, and the force of the explosion tore up said engine. The ship started to bank.

In _their_ direction.

"Oh shit." Fol muttered, as he looked on. Fortunately, he wasn't fired at, since these Insurrectionists were too focused on their air support being blown to bits. But if he didn't move-

A second grenade hit the ship as it started to veer forwards. It altered the crash course of the craft, flying over Fol.

Crashing into the façade of the building, some sort of town hall, behind it instead. The craft embedded itself into it, until it was buried up to its second set of turrets.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have broken some vital structural load-bearing supports, as the front started to collapse both below and above the craft, with multiple chunks falling onto stalls in front of the building.

"Shit." He heard Six curse, the first word she'd said since entering the marketplace. Fol looked around, looking for what made Six curse. So far, however, he saw nothing indicating a new threat.

"What is it?" Rosenda asked, obviously detecting nothing either.

Fol finally spotted Six, darting between stalls and heading directly towards the collapsing building. Said building actually looked like it was about to topple, onto the entire marketplace. The fountain would be out of range, so Fol was safe. But Six was headed directly into the danger zone. He was about to call her and ask her why...

When he saw what she was headed for. Underneath a meat stall directly in front of the building's entrance, a terrified six-year old girl in a dress was hiding behind a storage crate. And Six was heading straight for her.

Fol cursed, as he saw multiple of the Insurrectionists head for her from multiple directions. He got out of cover and fired on them, the Spartan on Kilo Five doing likewise. The Insurrectionists, attacked from two sides by both him and Rosenda, scattered.

All but one, who let loose a single rocket before being cut down by the Spartan on Kilo Five.

Six heard it being fired, and turned and shot at the missile with her DMR, but it was too late. She miraculously managed to hit it, but the force of the explosion knocked her back a dozen meters. She landed next to the stall with the the child hiding underneath it.

She was obviously badly hit. Her armor was smoking, and when she tried to get up all her limbs were shaking.

Then, she saw the child, and the building falling behind her, and he saw her evaluate. Just like he did now.

The building was collapsing too fast, with the pieces falling down now twice her size. If she sprinted now, she _might_ make it. But only if she forgot the child now. If she stayed, and tried to protect it somehow, she would die, either buried alive or pierced by sharp parts of the debris. But the child would stand a slightly bigger chance.

Six saw that too, and made the choice Fol didn't expect her to make.

She ran for the insurrectionist child, just as the entire building gave way towards them. Just as it was about to land on the child, Six made it, and pushed the child behind her with one hand while holding her other up to the debris to ward the worst of it off. Fol saw her disappear under a really large piece of rubble, before a massive dust cloud swept up and outwards, blinding all of the people in the marketplace.

"Six!" Fol shouted, as he took cover behind the walls of the fountain should any debris still reach him. The dust cloud still swept over them, forcing him to stay in cover. Part of him was fortunate for that, as with the sweeping wind of it he wouldn't hear Rosenda's pleas for Six to answer. But as he got out of cover the moment the dust swept past, his worst fear was confirmed.

Before him was only a field of rubble, and no Spartan or child in sight.

"Siiiiiix!" He called out, as he looked over it. At that moment, he didn't care if Zeus or the Insurrectionists heard him. His sister in arms was missing, and there wasn't a damn sight of her.

"Siiiix!" He called again. Weapons fire echoed, but it was Rosenda's weapon, likely picking off innies in anger. Then, he finally saw something of Six.

Something that made his stomach drop.

Something that filled him with something he hadn't felt since dealing with the Flood

Fear. Fear for someone's life.

For what he saw was Six' left arm sticking out of the rubble, blackened and scorched. Her armor was melted away, and her arm was bleeding, with burn scars so heavy even her Augmentation scars were no longer distinguishable.

And it wasn't moving.

* * *

 _Date: unknown_

 _Location:_ _Center of Forerunner Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus', unknown_

Kelly kicked the Last Promethean knight standing in her way over the edge, firing at two crawlers with her Plasma Rifles as she did so.

The advance on the platform had been slow. The Warden proved even tougher than his Knights, only retreating after being hit by multiple heavy weapons at the same time. But so far, not a single body of his was destroyed. Only pushed back.

But now, they were finally at the platform. The others were covering her from the walkway as she advanced on the platform, preventing the Prometheans from reaching her. Only one more stood in her way, a Scattershot aimed at her.

The more Promethean Knights they killed, the more Kalmiya managed to learn. So far, she only knew the names of the soldiers and their purpose as combat drones, as well as the names of some of the weapons, like the Incineration cannon, the Binary Rifle and the Scattershot, Forerunner Rocket Launchers, Sniper Rifles and Shotguns respectively.

Kelly threw a Frag Grenade at it, and downed the Knights shields with her Plasma Rifles before it detonated. Along the way, she had learned Covenant Energy Weaponry was far more effective against it than UNSC projectile weaponry. As such, she used them to down the Knight's shields, and an explosive to finish it off. As she successfully did so now, downing its shields just before the grenade went off. It was damaged fatally by it, and started to disintegrate as it was blasted over e edge of the platform.

She immediately sprinted towards it as the area was cleared, before more of the Knights could appear to block her way, and jumped upon it.

At the end of a very narrow, and _suspiciously_ clear walkway, with a single console at the end of it.

"Something's not right." Kalmiya warned, as Kelly moved to the console.

"Well, we don't have time." Kelly retorted. "The Prometheans are at our doorstep, and we need answers _now_."

Kalmiya was silent for a moment, before two pillars in front of the console were highlighted on her visor.

"Touch the pillars." Kalmiya finally said. "I think they, in junction with the sphere, might function as a com relay."

A com relay meant contact with the outside. Contact with the outside meant possible contact with command. Contact with command meant future reinforcements or pickup. Needing no further prompting, Kelly made an immediate dash for the pillars, touching both of them at the same time on the lit areas on top.

"To any UNSC forces in range, this is Sierra 087. Do you copy?" She immediately, and hurriedly, said. After all, Fred and the others wouldn't be able to hold out forever, and she needed to get the message out as soon as possible. As soon as she finished speaking, her words were echoed in a heavy metallic tone. The Prometheans all stopped fighting and turned to look at the sphere, of which the orange lines on the bottom started to glow brighter. But aside from that, nothing happened. Puzzled, Kelly made another attempt to create a message.

"Any UNSC personnel, do you read me?" She said, and it was repeated a moment later in the same heavy tone. The sphere started to slightly lower, and all Prometheans, including the bodies of the warden, turned reverently to the sphere. Blue team, who had stopped firing ever since the Prometheans did, were getting antsy with the odd situation, and if she were honest, Kelly was so as well.

None of this made sense. If the Warden wanted to stop them from reaching that panel, why didn't he deploy more of his forces to stop them? He had had plenty of time to place a dozen Knights between her and the console when she first arrived on the platform. For that record, he could have cut it to pieces with his large sword. Then why did he tolerate them meddling with it? Or for that matter, stop fighting at all as soon as the Sphere was activated?

In short, even if she didn't know for whom or why, they had walked into a trap.

She let go of the pillars, and got out her Plasma rifles. "Kalmiya. Exit for entire team. Now."

" _I'm_ not the one standing around." Kalmiya said nervously, also having caught on about the fact it's a trap. Seeing her point, Kelly dove off the platform, landing beside the rest of Blue Team.

As soon as she landed, a shockwave emerged from the sphere, flattening everything not in cover. All Crawlers were ejected from their walls. All Watchers crashed onto the walkways. All knights and Warden bodies toppled. As did Sam and Linda. Only she and Fred were in cover, both in a crouch behind an extension of a nearby wall. As soon as the ripples of the wave came past, she looked around the corner.

A smaller single-person platform had lowered from the sphere, of which the black parts at the bottom had split apart revealing a glowing orange interior sphere. On the platform stood a being, who slowly rose and extended his arms. As he did, a section of the wall next to her opened up, and a metal piece flew towards the being at lightning speed, becoming a piece of the shoulder armor. Multiple other parts shot towards it froM all around the walkway, completing a set of body-encompassing armor. The being slowly slowly turned to them.

"And so fades the great harvest of my betrayal." It said, as it waved a hand, sending a second ripple to the Prometheans. As soon as the wave hit them, the white light that had been over their body turned as orange as the inner light of the sphere. Sam and Linda had gotten up, and while they didn't aim at the being yet, all of them had their weapons vaguely pointed in its direction.

"And humans." The being continued in a malevolent tone, turning to look at them all. "Corner them, and offer even a slight sliver of false hope, and they take it. Still as easy to deceive as ever, it seems"

At the end of that sentence, her cover started to glow and dissolve, like the ending of a Prometheans Knight. She whirled into the open and aimed her weapon at it. The others of the team raised their own weapons at it in response.

The being merely raised its hand palm towards its own face, and made a gripping-like motion. Immediately she was paralyzed and suspended in the air, her arms forced to her side and her head held facing upwards. From the corner of her eye she could also see the others were held aloft in similar ways. All of them moved forward against their own will, until they were in front of the being.

"The Librarian left little to chance, didn't she?" The being mused, as Kelly had a first good look at the thing. It had six fingers on one hand, two thumbs, index fingers and middle fingers respectively, and they were in mirror image of each other. It had pale skin, fangs, bags under red eyes with black background and a black pupils, and a small bit of hair on the top of its head.

And it looked enraged.

"Turning my own guardians, and an entire world, against me." The being continued. "But what naivety, to believe the Warden would stay loyal to her forever." It paused, and looked them over, turning them a bit one by one.

"If your technology is still this outdated and inefficient..." it mused, before it looked up, realizing something. "then Mankind has not attained the Mantle. Your ascendancy may yet be prevented."

"Who are you?" Sam managed to grunt despite the great hold on him.

The being turned to him, and moved them so they all floated alongside each other.

"I am the Didact, Human. And if you are unaware of my hatred for your kind... let's just say you would be better off with a Flood Outbreak on Erde Tyrene."

Three of the Warden's bodies teleported to stand next to the Didact. Two held identical devices of some sort, which moved to attach to the Didact's forearms. The third held a helmet, which shifted around the head and tightened until it was seamless.

Kelly tried to struggle more and more to release herself as this went on. This guy, whoever he was, sounded like one of the greatest threats humanity would ever face, and they needed to stop it. But no matter what she did, her body wouldn't move more than a few millimeters, the pressure too great to resist. And at the worst time possible, Kalmiya wasn't responding.

"I will finish what I started with the composer all those years ago." The Didact explained heatedly as it turned to the devices, adjusting their settings out of view of the Spartans. "I will digitalize your entire race, and turn them into new soldiers for my armies as I lead the galaxy into a time of piece and prosperity. The Forerunners at the top, with all other races beneath me. And humanity nothing but ashes."

"One tiny problem with that." Fred said. "Your race is extinct."

The Didact turned back to them, the devices on its arms now fully activated. "A trivial matter, compared to the threat your kind poses at present." It answered. "And I have the _ideal_ solution for it." It raised the devices so they could see them.

"These are smaller prototypes of the Composer, which I used to create my Promethean army from your ancestors. The finalized version I used on them was a thousand times larger, and far quicker and less painful. These ones are far slower, excruciating... and unsuccessful in digitalizing living beings."

The Didact aimed them at them, and they started to glow with energy. "Consider this a sample of what I will do to your allies, false reclaimers."

Before any of them could shout in protest or do something similarly futile, the Didact fired his miniature composers at them. After that, Kelly stopped seeing. And hearing. And smelling.

All that was there was the excruciating pain and burning hell, as she was slowly, inch by inch, chipped away digitally, turning into crystallized dust to be swept aside.

Her last coherent thought before the pain and heat fully consumed her, was that she said goodbye to John, and that she loved him.

* * *

 _B312 Audiolog 3_

 _Hello again, strangers who might find this. This is the first time I'm making one of these things without Jason being there. He got pulled away for hitting one of the other kids in anger for calling me out on my scar._

 _I don't mind my scar. Got it fair and square when I killed the bastard that took my family. At this point, I have more Covie kills than the rest of the cadets combined. Besides, it shows I was stronger than what tried to harm me. So why be ashamed of it?_

 _Besides, Jason said he liked how it ran from the side of my nose to my chin._

 _Still, that guys is nuts. He tried to convince me to set off fireworks underneath the Eltee-Com's lodge. I've gotta learn how he keeps it hidden. Sure, a good Poker Face gets him far, but that can't be the entirety of it. Note to self: ask him about it during next training exercise._

 _I heard they are going to make a new training roster tomorrow, since they think they figured out what kind of training we need. Pfff. Pansies need to check up on what I_ truly _need. At this point, I was involved in at least half of the fights that occurred so far... and provoked others into instigating a few more. I don't need karate or Kung Fu or whatever they want to throw at me at this point. I need the other stuff like how to be a doctor, or car repair man or how to fly a plane._

 _Or how to build robots. Because who doesn't love robots? Or Cyborgs. They're awesome, too._

 _Shit, the Bell's ringing. I gotta go. B312 out._

* * *

 **Damn, I must hate you guys, with all these cliffhangers I keep making.**

 **The Locke part: I will make a subchapter for that similar to what I did with Halo 3: ODST... and that's the closest the deadspace fans will come to a crossover. so if you hoped for a full story: sorry guys, but I don't have _that_ much free time. **

**The Logs at beginning and end of chapters: for this specific story they become usual.**

 **as always, a pleasure. please, review**

 **Gharst Omenlumin**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. I'm sorry for leaving you guys in a cliffhanger this long, but That is because I've been busy writing not one, but _two_ Chapters (The immediate Chapter 2, and the Halo-Dead Space crossover) at the same time. on top with an increase in driving lessons and replaying the Dead Space trilogy to get a feel of the saga again, that's left little time to actually write.**

 **Request: Reviews. I feed on those.**

 **Request: Who do you want to make an appearance in the Halo-Dead Space crossover alongside Osiris? Isaac's a given, but who else should be on the accursed ship in your opinion?**

 **Also a future request: In the next one (chronologically, at least. I still have the spin-off to work on) I will be opening with an operation with _many_ Spartans, of the second, third and fourth programs. If you have OC Spartans in mind, or want ones from other stories featured: Send them (or the name of the story if he's featured before), and they'll get cameo's at the very least, their very own perspectives beyond that at very best.**

 **Note: The knife depicted in the log actually exists for real. just look it up, and you'll see how awesome it actually is.**

 **Note: The argument between Halsey and Mendez is an exempt from Halo: Glasslands, since I ran out of inspiration on what to actually say there. Therefor, that ain't mine**

 **Disclaimer: Beyond OC's, I don't own anything.**

* * *

Halo 4: Shelter of the Reclaimers

Chapter 2

* * *

 _B312 Audiolog 15_

 _Well, I have to admit, despite my earlier lack of enthusiasm, some of Kurt's training came in useful. I had to learn to fight like a part of an actual team, alongside Jason, Thom and Kat, the latter two getting along well with Jason, and thus were being rotated into a team. Still, I-_

 _"What is this?"_

 _Jason, don't touch that! It's a family heirloom!_

 _(Sound of metal and rubber sliding along another recorded)_

 _"Some heirloom! This is a damn fine knife! Can I keep it?"_

 _OVER MY DEAD BODY!_

 _"Sheesh. Calm, you nutty psychopath. I was just joking. Here."_

 _Thank you._

 _"So, uh, what kind of knife is it?"_

 _It's an Jagdkommando Integral Tri-Dagger Fixed Blade Knife._

 _"Quite a mouthful."_

 _German make, build around the year two thousand, give or take a few decades. This is a treasure, Jason. A single stab from this already twists the blade inside the wound for you. Very difficult to close the wound, even for me. Unless a Surgical team is already standing by, you can be assured the victim will die of blood loss._

 _"A true weapon of war."_

 _And highly illegal. This is actually on Earthgov's list of weapons prohibited to use even in war. Like gas attacks and such. Using this goes with the risk of being branded a war criminal._

 _"Wait a minute. You can get branded a war criminal for using a bloody knife?"_

 _I didn't make that rule. But anyway, the UEG decided to destroy any weapon of that design wherever they were found. And they were very successful. Last time my father checked, only a few years ago, only ten of those still exist._

 _"Damn. I need to let this sink in."_

 _You don't have the time. Bell's about to ring._

 _"Oh shit"_

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Cathedral, 500 Kilometers East of Forward Unto Dawn Crash Site, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere Designate 'Sarcophagus'_

John stood dumbstruck for a moment, taking time to let their bad fortune sink in. Blue Team, _his Blue Team_ ,was headed straight for the Didact. The worst possible location they could head to. If they unleashed him for whatever reason or another, they were dead to rights.

That thought stirred him into action, and he whirled to the Monitor. "Spark, does this installation have a teleportation network like on Halo?"

"Yes." Spark answered. "But-"

"Then access it." He demanded. "Those are my teammates down there. And misguided in this task or not, we're getting them out of there."

"Chief, wait!" Cortana tried to stop him. "You need-"

He didn't listen, he just looked at the Monitor. "Do it. Now!"

"No." Cortana said, and she physically stopped him, by raising part of the platform so it stood in his way.

"Think for a second." Cortana urged. "If you head in there without a plan, you end up dead. Or worse, in the hands of an enraged Forerunner. Let us analyze he situation first, on how to get them out, and _then_ we get them."

He calmed down, as her words sunk in. She was right. For a moment, in his shock at the danger they were in, he had let his emotions get the better of him. With so many knights in there, he'd be dead before he was even spotted by his team members. No, it was best to watch, and analyze.

The team had reached the controls console that controlled the Didact's prison. Kelly made a run for it, and pressed her hands on the pillars that would release him. The Warden and his knights immediately stopped fighting, and turned to look at the central sphere. The rest did so as well, as the Didact emerged. From nearby walls, various pieces shot away towards the Didact, becoming his personal body armor. He started to talk, and after a moment, pulled the team towards him with some sort of telekinesis, or something similar in function. Three Wardens appeared behind him, two holding odd devices.

The Monitor gasped. "Those are ancient unfinished prototypes of the Composer. It is slow and excruciating... and lethal if used on Humans."

"Do they have weaknesses?" The Arbiter immediately demanded.

The Monitor stopped bobbling up and down, and brightened. To their mild surprise, he chuckled.

"Of course." The Monitor said. "They each require two generators to function at all. They're large, require close proximity to provide power... and are easy to sabotage."

John looked at Cortana, Johnson and the Arbiter in turn. They all nodded.

"Bring the Elites back to us, and brief them on the situation." He ordered. The Monitor nodded, and immediately two bright lights appeared next to them. And in that light, N'tho and Usze materialized from thin air, both looking around in confusion.

"Long story short: we have four Spartans that accidentally unleashed the worst Forerunner war criminal in history." Cortana summarized for them, drawing their attention. "We're about to get them out."

The two looked at Cortana, the holographic display, each other, and then nodded. "We're in."

John looked at them all, and started giving orders. "Arbiter, Johnson, Red and Blue: each of you tackle a generator. Spark, instruct everyone on how to take one down, and then evacuate them back here. The Spartans too, in case they don't recover in time. Cortana, with me. We'll keep the Didact and Warden off everyone's backs."

"You sure you want to do that alone?" Johnson questioned. "Because mister tall and ugly seems quite a tough bastard."

John pointed at the Spartans currently being tortured. "Does it look like I have a choice? If you disable them, the Warden might just repair them before the others finish, and then we're back at square minus five, and without the element of surprise. And how would we do it then?"

Johnson held his hands up in surrender. "I ain't arguing. Just making sure."

"While I agree it needs to be done, Reclaimer." The Monitor interjected. "It requires a human to reveal the inner workings of the generator. It can be done without you by Johnson. But if you assist it can be done a lot quicker, and will give the team a lot less pain should you succeed."

This gave John pause. Would he be there to distract the Didact and the Warden himself, and have a chance to see his brothers and sisters again? Or would he aid the Elites, and give them a better chance of survival?

The Arbiter made the choice for him. "I'll go in your stead, Spartan. You go and ensure the safety of your clan members."

"Are you sure?" John was the one who asked this time.

The Arbiter merely made the Sangheili equivalent of a smirk, and raised his Energy Swords. "Don't worry: He will never see me coming."

Satisfied with the answer, he turned to the Monitor. "Spark, send us in pairs to generators. As soon as Johnson and I have unlocked them, teleport us to the last two. After that, the plan's unchanged."

Spark nodded in affirmation, and rings of yellow light enveloped them all. John made a last move to yank Cortana back into his head, and then he was teleported himself.

* * *

Thel slipped past the Knights, as they stood guard over the platform. The Didact had left the little hover pad that had kept him suspended in the Cryptum, and had moved himself, the Composer prototypes and the Spartans to the pad that had released him.

"First Generator pair is down." Johnson reported. "Me and Red Rhodey here are pulling out."

Indeed, as Thel looked on, the beams of both composers started to flicker. The Warden looked around in concern.

" _ **We have intruders.**_ " The Warden reported. " _ **And False Reclaimers with them.**_ "

"Dispose of them as you see fit." The Didact ordered without even turning his head, too focused on the torment he was giving the Spartans in front of him.

One of the bodies of the Warden nodded, and the two others stalked away, headed slightly in Thel's direction.

 _Now!_

As they were about to pass him, he deactivated his Active camouflage, and stabbed both Wardens in the back of their necks. Both grunted in pain, but still tried to turn to face their attacker. Having seen on the hologram what the Warden's sword could do to living beings, he didn't let them. Instead, he stabbed in their backs, and sliced downwards with his sword. The Wardens both slightly came apart in pieces. But they started, once again, to slowly piece themselves together again.

He couldn't allow that.

He stabbed a third time at one, hitting a piece of machinery he'd missed earlier. Which proved to be the Warden's weakness: the device that allowed the Warden to open portals. One opened in the middle of the Warden's body, seemingly to nowhere, and started to pull the pieces in. Thel rolled away from it in case it started to pull him in, too. After all the pieces were in, with no device to generate it any longer, the portal collapsed.

" ** _Impressive._** " The remaining body stated. " _ **You are the first to slay one of my bodies in over a hundred thousand years.**_ "

Thel got both of his Energy Swords in a combat stance, as the Warden did likewise with his own sword.

"I can assure you it will not be the last." Thel stated. After that, he charged the Warden. The Warden, no longer underestimating him, let out a wave of Energy from his sword. Thel slid underneath it as he dropped onto his knees, and got in his own effective attack range. He slashed at the Warden's knees, which the Promethean blocked. It tried to behead Thel in one stroke, but he dropped on his haunches, ducking underneath the attack. It went on like that a few times, with the Warden blocking the Arbiter's attacks, while Thel avoided being hit by the Warden's. The Promethean was simply too strong to directly block, as even one attempt would still throw him away, possibly even over the walkway's edge.

He considered it time to splice things up. He holstered one of his swords, grabbed his last Brute Spike Grenade, and as he feigned an attack, he threw it at the Portal Generator.

It stuck.

Thel gave a final kick to unbalance the Warden, and turned to march onwards. The Warden gave a final cry as the Portal sucked him in, teleporting his pieces to nothingness. Thel didn't stay to observe the final demise of that particular body. He knew there would be many more to come.

He marched onto the platform, with the last Warden body in the area and the Didact watching him. A Promethean Knight had taken over the duty of firing the Composers at the Spartans, who he saw trembled in agony in the Didact's kinetic grip.

"You are a skilled warrior, Sangheili." The Didact complimented. "As such, I shall grant you a warrior's death. It is more than they deserve."

Thel didn't respond, as the Warden gave the Didact both his sword... and a Promethean rifle.

This should be interesting.

Thel bolstered his sword, and grabbed his Carbine, taking cover near a pillar as the Didact opened fire as well.

* * *

Cortana frankly looked on from the Chief's helmet, as she observed the events. And she hated to say it, but despite the Chief's efforts, things were going to hell. Oh, he did everything according to plan: the generators were almost all disabled, and the Arbiter was keeping the Didact and the Warden occupied.

Trouble was, the Warden had more than one body. In fact, he had a few hundred million. And over a hundred of them now stood between the Chief and the final generator. The Warden was the most resilient enemy the Chief had faced so far: as omnipresent as the Gravemind, as tough as a Scarab, and as mobile as a Warthog. John would be cut down in seconds. No, something had to be done, and it had to be done now.

In an nanosecond, she looked over all the data the Monitor had given her on the Forerunners, looking for anything that could aid them.

And cursed silently. There was no weapon in existence that could take out even half of those Wardens in under a second _without_ harming the Chief as well. She needed something-

Wait. The Domain. A galaxy-spanning network the Forerunners had created to store their information. The Cathedral was a possible backup for it. If there was any answer to be found, it would be there.

The Chief and he Monitor would object, of course. The Monitor had stated that the Domain thrived off all living beings, and when Halo had been fired thousands of years ago, the Domain had been heavily damaged due to the massive loss of life, and possibly even destroyed. Who knew what was in there now.

But she had no choice: the Prometheans needed to be stopped, and the only way she could help was by accessing the Domain.

"Forgive me." She muttered, as she made contact with it.

Before the Chief could ask what she meant, she pressed into the Domain, and accessed it.

And she was amazed. Her 'body', for lack of a better word, left the Chief's, and time seemed to slow. Just as he was about to step around the corner and into the sight of all those Wardens, it stopped entirely. Good, that meant she had all the time she needed to find her answer.

She felt, rather than saw, the information pass along her, and was amazed by what information she suddenly knew in one eye blink, only to lose it and gain another piece of info the next. Slipspace vectors for _within a star_ , Hardlight Technology Blueprints, memory files... the repository was endless.

Then, she paused for a moment. A certain piece of info had caught her attention. It was some sort of self-restoring code, made for AI's. Curious if her suspicion was true, she ran a simulation on what would happen should the code be integrated into her.

And gasped in shock. If it were to be done correctly, which was difficult but possible by an extremely skilled Programmer, it would recompile her neural net, and root out any bad coding within her, deleting it at the same time while restoring it with new, uncorrupted coding. In effect, she would be the same as Kalmiya.

She would be immune to _Rampancy_. In effect, she could live forever if she wanted to.

She briefly considered it. It would be extremely helpful if she was at one hundred percent capacity. She had been drained ever since she'd absorbed all that data from the first Halo, and heavily damaged by the tortures of the Gravemind. It would save her.

But it would take hours for anyone, even an AI as skilled as her, to integrate that coding. And judging by the current state Blue Team was in, they didn't have hours. They had _minutes_. And within the Domain, she couldn't enter Diagnostic mode. At this point, she wasn't sure she would come out of it if she did.

It came down to a choice. Her own immortality, or the survival of Blue Team

No. better for Blue Team to live than for her to be immortal. She recorded the code for later examination by Kalmiya and moved on to her search.

Yet still, a short while later, and hundreds of Data files examined, she hadn't found what she was looking for. She was about to pass on to the next data set.

When a second presence suddenly entered the Domain. Before Cortana could even gasp in surprise, it forced information into her.

"You will need this." A voice told her. It was a woman, ancient and wise. Also, by the sound of her voice, she was Forerunner.

Before Cortana could respond to it or ask a question, the presence withdrew, leaving her alone again. With nothing else to do, she examined the information.

And smirked. This was the best weapon against the Prometheans by far: a technique to dissolve the Warden's bodies even without any major damage to them, as well as how to convert some Promethean Knights to her own side. She needed to remain in the Domain to enforce it, but no matter.

"Alright, Didact." She muttered. "Lets even the playing field."

* * *

John had just disabled the first Generator, and was teleported by Spark to the second.

"Forgive me." Cortana muttered in his ear.

"What is it?" He asked, as he and N'tho strolled around the corner.

And he was faced with over a hundred Warden bodies standing between him and the last Generator.

He raised his rifle, and N'tho grabbed his Carbine. But before any of them, Spartan, Elite or Warden, could attack, Cortana's voice echoed across the rooms.

"Alright, Didact. Let's even the playing field."

And the hundred Warden bodies cried out in pain, or defiantly screamed " ** _NOOO!_** ", as they suddenly, forcefully, dissolved. One by one, a blue light engulfed then, before they dissolved like deactivating holograms.

It took less than a second, but in it, all the Wardens were gone.

His path clear, he marched to the Generator, and followed Spark's instructions on how to disable it. He didn't know how, but Cortana had come through for them.

* * *

Cortana smirked, as she destroyed the Warden Eternal's bodies by the hundreds. First, she killed those near the Chief and her comrades. Next, she attacked a large number of them that were attempting to gain access to a vault room in a Forerunner city not 200 kilometers north of the Cathedral, and reprogrammed the Knights to guard it instead. That, and making sure they wouldn't attack humans or Sangheili.

Then, she systematically started to purge all Wardens off of Sarcophagus, wiping them out by the thousands in less than seconds.

Just as she was down to five Warden bodies, though, she felt a sensation she had only felt in the Gravemind's grasp.

Pain.

"A grave mistake, Ancilla." The Didact said. Before she could retort or defend herself, she felt another pain...

and in lack of better terms, was kicked out of the Domain, and it shut on her.

She felt her 'body' slip into the chip in the Chief's head again, and was once again, a normal AI. Only this time, she carried a cure to Rampancy that could be implemented later.

"Damn the rodder." She cursed. "He locked me out."

"What did you do?" The Monitor questioned.

"I had to access the Domain, in order to stop the Warden from killing the Chief." She answered. "There was-"

" ** _Show some gratitude, Lightbulb!_** " A second voice interjected. " _ **We Saved your LIVES!"**_

Cortana recoiled in horror. That was her own voice.

A rampant personality spike.

Her estimation from the Forward Unto Dawn was off. She didn't have three weeks.

She had three _days_.

"Cortana?" John asked, seriously concerned.

Restoring control over her own subroutines, she sighed.

"Let's get Blue Team out of here first. After that, I'll explain everything. I promise."

John still seemed concerned. But he relented, and marched back out of the room, the Elite by his side.

"I appreciate you saving us, Cortana." The Monitor finally said, appearing next to them. "But when this is all over, you and I need to have a long talk."

Cortana chuckled. "Looking forward to it."

The second Elite suddenly looked up in alarm, staring upwards. Curious, the Chief did so as well, and followed the gaze.

And was surprised. The Arbiter and the Didact were in a sword duel above them. Blue Team, free now that the Composers were disabled and the Didact's attention diverted, lay slumped on the ground behind them, unconscious, their weapons at their sides.

And the Duel wasn't going well for the Arbiter.

N'tho looked between the Arbiter and the Chief, and sighed. "I am sorry, Spartan. You were one of the greatest warriors in existence, and it was an honor to fight alongside you."

Cortana John immediately grow concerned. "What are you-"

"Oracle, transport the Reclaimer and his AI back to the Cathedral, and me to the Didact.

She immediately realized what the Elite was about to do: Sacrifice himself so the Arbiter and the other Spartans could live. John did so as well, as He strode towards the Elite. "Wait-"

But it was too late: the rings of light surrounded them; and they found themselves back at the Cathedral, with a very confused Johnson.

John was confused as well, though for another reason.

Namely, Usze 'Taham was nowhere in sight either.

"Where is your Elite?" Both accidentally asked at the same time.

Cortana sighed, as she sadly displayed her face on John's visor.

"Apparently, they had the same idea."

* * *

Thel grunted, as he was kicked back again, landing on the large Spartan with a minigun beside him. He had been losing this fight ever since it went to close quarters. Like the Warden that mysteriously disappeared, the Didact was physically too strong for him to fight. And dodging became harder and harder, as the Didact was far more skilled than him.

The Didact strode over to him, and Thel got up like the devil possessed him. Laying down longer than necessary was suicide here.

But the Didact already had his sword at the Arbiter's throat, and he knew he wasn't strong enough to bat it aside.

"And yet, still you fail." The Didact said.

And the Forerunner gasped in pain, whirling around. To Thel's surprise, N'tho and Usze stood there, both with their swords raised at the Didact... and a pair of Swords stuck between his back plates.

"Run!" N'tho shouted, as he charged towards the Didact, Usze by his side. The Didact tried to slash at them, but they both jumped over it, grabbing hold of him with one hand while slashing away at him with their swords in their other hands.

Thel knew he didn't have much time. He contacted the Monitor.

"Spark, Teleport the Spartans someplace safe. Now."

The Monitor complied, and four circles of light engulfed the Spartans. Thel made a few motions to ensure they held on to their weapons, before they disappeared before his eyes. Satisfied they were safe, he turned around.

As expected, things had gone for the worse. N'tho was already down, a huge near-vertical gash across his entire body. Usze was on the ground, making multiple attempts to block the Didact's blows. In the end, the Didact batted the Energy Sword out of the Elite's hand, reversed his grip on the sword so the blade was down instead of up, and stabbed.

Thel forced himself to look, as the Didact pierced the warrior's heart, ending his life. Usze slumped down, his last look being that of the Arbiter grabbing his own Swords, before he died.

Thel got a better stance, as he was about to attack as well, in an attempt to avenge his comrade.

Plasma shots hit the Didact in the back, and instead of turning to Thel he turned to look behind him.

"I... said... run!" N'tho managed, his chest bleeding heavily, as he fired his Plasma Rifle with one hand, his other near-limb at his side, still cradling his Energy Sword like his life depended on it. The Didact charged him, and N'tho weakly raised his sword. But instead of blocking the attack, the Didact's downwards slash was so strong that it forced the blade back... into stabbing N'tho's own abdomen. In addition, the Didact's slash found its mark across the Elite's chest, creating a second fatal wound.

The Elite merely smiled, and dropped his Plasma Rifle... revealing the primed Frag grenade he had been holding between his fingers. With the last of his strength, he slashed his sword out of his own body and across the left eyeslot in the Didact's armor. He dropped the grenade, and while he found his mark with his slash as it surprised the Didact, his momentum as his arm flung backwards made him stumble.

Over the edge of the platform and making him fall into the Slipspace portal beneath the cryptum.

Thel moved to the console, and hurriedly pressed a few controls. Seconds after N'tho's body fell in, the Slipspace portal closed, and a smaller portal appeared behind him.

The Didact whirled back to Thel, as it noticed the Slipspace portal collapse. To Thel's satisfaction, a dark-red fluid emerged from the now-darkened eyeslot, indicating N'tho had managed to injure the Didact.

"Shall we continue?" The Didact asked, as it raised its sword.

"No." Thel said, as he stepped backwards into the opened portal. And as he emerged in the center of the Cathedral, the Didact sprinted for him in a desperate attempt to catch up.

But the Master Chief, already at the Cathedral's console, closed the Portal in time. It collapsed, the last sight being the Didact rearing back his arm to swing one of the energy beams at them with his sword.

As he recovered, Johnson and the Master Chief turned to him.

"What happened?" Johnson asked. "Where are red and blue?"

"Did they fall?" The Monitor, now beside him as well, asked.

Thel slumped, as he sat down in exhaustion.

"They drink Damnation." He finally answered after a moment.

* * *

 _Date: 31-01-2554_

 _Location: Graves' office, R.I.F Headquarters, Angel City, Troy_

He sighed, as he looked at the current situation. Currently, all twenty of the Sentinel-class heavy cruisers, though by sheer size they could actually be classified as heavy carriers, were completed, and all were out on patrol, half securing their borders alongside UNSC-built warships like Charon-class Frigates and Halcyon- and Marathon-class cruisers. The other half was being prepared for the surprise that would show up at Scorpio VI, should the UNSC attempt to stop the deserters. Should they show up, the UNSC military would develop entirely new protocols out of a new paranoidal fear of asteroids larger than their own warships.

He looked up, as the diagram on his display showed him the situation Blisk's Apex Predators had discovered. The Predators were a group of mercenaries founded by Blisk before he joined Graves, ruthless in nature and violent in battle. When he had joined, and when the R.I.F had started recruiting volunteers for the Titan Program, the Predators had practically been first in line for it. Graves didn't like them, as their... psychopathic tendencies went against many of his beliefs. Furthermore, the fact they were fiercely loyal to Blisk further made him doubt his faith in Blisk. But they were one of the best Titan teams out there. He needed them.

The report brought in by the Predator's second in command, a woman named Slone, he recalled, was grim. Some sort of communications blackout had occurred at the illegal Sovereign Colonies mining outpost there, and all calls went unanswered... including those from Graves' agents on said colony. Graves didn't know what had gone on there, but things were serious. Most would have dismissed it as paranoia on Graves' part, were it not for the fact Mahad had asked Hood to send his very best Spartan Team to check out a mining vessel above the planet which had also gone silent.

Mahad never asked the UNSC for help. He was a paranoid tyrant, who thought of himself as above the UNSC, outright despised asking them for help. A sentiment echoed throughout the planets loyal to him. The only reason he had helped Hood at all back during the battle over Earth was because Graves had bought him out... and had held him at gunpoint to ensure he wouldn't refuse. The very fact he now asked Hood for help on his own initiative spoke of how far Mahad considered the things happening at Aegis VII above his league.

He had to do something. The UNSC was underestimating the possible threat it could pose. Granted, it was because of Mahad's failure to inform them rather than the UNSC's own incompetence. But no matter the cause the result was the same.

Oh, how he hated being in charge sometimes. True, he got things done, and he couldn't deny he slightly liked being as favored in the R.I.F as he was. But he had so many things to take into account when doing anything these days: ONI's incompetent reactions to everything, the rest of the UNSC, the Sovereign Colonies, the other factions of the Insurrection he was slowly absorbing into his own by sheer size, the factions of the former Covenant species, like the Swords of Sanghelios, the Sanghelian Alliance and the Storm Covenant, not to mention the shadowy Legionary Armada Tulam'ee had informed him off... it sometimes hurt his head just taking account of the massive amount of major and minor players that could pose a threat.

And now, whatever was causing trouble at Aegis VII...

Didn't the galaxy have enough on its plate as it was?

He finally managed to get to the part where Slone described the threat. Graves took extra time reading it through.

By he time he finished, he wanted to just curse, or shoot somebody. All his opponents and the other players in the game could be wiped out in a few years if he let this spread. Just as well as _he_ could be wiped out.

He grabbed his chatter, and called Spyglass, MacAllen and Cole, the three he needed to speak with the most. The former because of how widespread he was, and how effectively he could implement new protocols and orders. The middle because he was his best friend and confidante, and from whom he kept no secrets at all. The latter, because of his excellent strategic and tactical views, and how he could create any plan to stop this threat.

"Spyglass, Mac, Preston: come to my office ASAP. You need to see this."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Unknown_

With another grunt, she forced herself to get up, as she ran from the unknown menace that had gotten them.

At first she had tried to fight it. God, she did. She had shot it, stabbed it, clubbed it... blast, she had picked up Fred's fallen Spartan laser and fired at it. But nothing so much as fazed it.

And then, it had started picking them off. To her horror, John and Six fell first. The large, piranha-like plant had picked up Six, and ripped her in two before she could so much as cough. The remains were, quite literally, thrown into John, and then a massive... _tentacle_ of sorts had slammed into him, crushing him until he was nothing but pulp.

Anguish had washed over her for a moment there. John. Her one love in life. The core of her entire being. Crushed to nothing but a little pile of organic goo within crushed metal armor.

Sam had fallen next, as the Titanic creature started to advance on them, and Sam had been too slow to evade it in time. He disappeared as the entire creature rolled over him, absorbing him into it.

Wisely, she, Linda and Fred had run like hell, with most of them dropping their gear in order to make it.

In the end, Linda had stumbled, and fallen behind. As the creature advanced on her, consuming her like it did with Sam, Fred turned back, in a vain attempt to save her.

But it failed. Like every effort against it, his attempt to save her had failed. He only made it as the massive creature did, and it swept both of them up into its massive mouth, lined with five sac-like eyes.

And so, the last one still alive, Kelly had ran.

She ran and ran, until her legs couldn't carry her any longer, and still she went on, only stopping momentarily to drop anything that slowed her down that she could afford to lose.

And the massive tentacle that had killed John slammed into her, knocking her away. She landed hard on her back, hitting some sort of soft rock. As she took a moment to reorient herself and dispel her dizziness, the felt, rather than heard, the thing make it's way towards her. In a rush, she tried to crawl away from it. Anything to get away from that thing.

She screamed, as it's mouth lowered to her.

And with a start she woke up, slightly hyperventilating. In her panic from her nightmare, her hand rushing to the nearest weapon and aiming it, looking for any threat.

Only meeting the faces of five heavily startled Spartan-III's, a surprised Chief Mendez, and Halsey looking up from a console.

"Bad dream, huh?" Mendez simply said, as he looked her over.

Hesitantly, she lowered her Plasma rifle, and tried to get up. She immediately regretted that decision, as she felt a stab of massive pain shoot through her entire body. The pain remained, as the adrenaline from her nightmare slowly ebbed away. Blast, she felt like hell. In the end, she just settled for sitting up, using the wall for support.

"How long have I been out?" She asked with a pained grunt.

"Over three hours." Halsey answered. "At least, someone teleported you guys into the room three hours ago, and you were already unconscious when you arrived."

"And the others?" She looked around, searching for the rest of Blue Team. Quickly, she found them laying next to her on their backs, all at least a pistol in their hands.

"They're alright. Don't know what you all suffered through back there, but it wasn't permanent. You'll feel like hell for a few days, but you can do pretty much anything you want."

Kelly carefully took off her helmet, and raised her eyebrow. "Really? No doctor's order to stay in bed?" She questioned mockingly.

"And since when have any of you ever listened to such orders?" Halsey evenly returned, as she resumed her work on the console.

Kelly briefly had a trail of a smirk, before she grabbed a ration bar. Whatever the Composer had done to her, it left her ravenous. She took a small bite from it. As with the hundreds of other military-grade bars she had eaten, it tasted like shit. But at least it filled the contents of her stomach somewhat.

"So, care to fill us in on what happened?" One of the Threes, Mark, asked.

She swallowed her bite, and filled the others in on the situation, counting it down on her fingers. "Well, lets see: We encountered the leaders of those Promethean Knights. He misled us into releasing his creator, a Forerunner warlord, and we were captured and tortured into unconsciousness. The next thing I know, I wake up here."

Mendez frowned, as he leaned forwards a bit. Halsey herself looked up from her work, and the rest of the Threes that hadn't already done so sat down, listening intently.

"Alright, start over." Halsey said. "And the long version instead of the short one, please."

And so, she filled them in. On how, upon separated from the others, Blue Team had met the Warden Eternal, how he misled them to travel to the core of the planet and free the Didact, how he had tortured them, and how they lost consciousness.

At the end, Mendez let out a curse Kelly didn't dare repeating even in her own head.

"As if being stuck in here wasn't enough of a nightmare. No offense, Spartans."

Kelly reassured him she took none, though it didn't escape her how he didn't apologize to Halsey.

A loud groan interrupted anyone from reacting any further, and they all looked back. Fred was getting up now as well, though he did immediately fall back down again from the pain.

"Anyone got the number of the car that hit us?" He groaned, only half awake.

"No." Kelly answered, not in the mood to humor him because of her own pain.

Fred, now realizing where he was and what had happened, tried again to sit up. But the effort was as successful as the last, and he stopped trying. He did reach for his weapons, though, just in case.

The other two awakened in short order, too. Both, like her and Fred, in massive pain from being under the direct effects of the Composer, but with no permanent injuries beyond a slightly hurt pride at being defeated so easily. Then, Kelly noticed something that worried her.

Kalmiya was uncharacteristically silent.

With pain shooting up her arm with the movement, she removed Kalmiya's data chip to examine it. To her untrained eye, it looked intact, and the crystal core that housed her shone as brightly as it had when Kelly put the AI in last time.

A coughing sound emerged suddenly, and the AI's avatar reactivated. Her avatar was still the same as in the CASTLE Base, a barefoot professor with black hair and glasses. But she was bent over, and slightly coughing.

And the reason why was revealed. "Finally. Took you long enough to get me out." She said dramatically. "Do you know how long the Didact had forced me silent?"

She suppressed her smirk. "Good to see you too, Kalmiya." She said, gesturing for Halsey to come over. If she was ok enough to whine in an overly dramatic matter, whatever got to her was nothing she couldn't handle on her own.

She grabbed Halsey's datapad, and inserted Kalmiya into it. "Might help you open the door."

Halsey nodded in thanks, and got back to work, which went significantly faster with an AI of Kalmiay's caliber helping her. Satisfied she wouldn't be disturbed soon, Kelly leaned back and closed her eyes. And hoped nightmares wouldn't disturb her rest this time.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown._

 _Location: roughly 150 kilometers away from Forerunner Town, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, Designate 'Sarcophagus'_

John sighed, as the party, now consisting of five instead of seven, drove towards the nearest town Cortana had spotted, and where the Arbiter had reportedly sent Blue Team to. Johnson and the Arbiter drove on the other Warthog, keeping it secure. John and Spark were in the other, though the Monitor had briefly powered down and laid himself in the foot space of the passenger's seat.

Realizing this was as alone with Cortana as he was going to get, he composed his question. Then, he abandoned it, deciding to go for his preferred blunt approach.

"Cortana." He asked on a private channel. "Care to explain your outburst?"

Cortana appeared in a small window just above his motion sensor, which only detected the Arbiter's vehicle for over two kilometers. The AI had a resigned expression, and let out a sigh before speaking.

"John, what do you know of Rampancy?" She asked.

The way she asked it alone already told him how serious it was. She rarely addressed him by his first name, only when they were unsure they were going to survive, or on extremely personal matters, like Kelly. He decided to answer honestly.

"Not much in scientific terms. But as I understand it, it is to an AI what dying of old age is to me."

"Only in that it's inevitable unless something else gets to us first." Cortana corrected. "AI's start to degrade after seven years. Our cognitive processes begin dividing exponentially according to our total knowledge base. We literally _think_ ourselves to death. Understand it so far?" A simple nod from him let her continue.

"Well, here is the kicker. Back on the first Halo, when I copied the database from the control room, I put incredible strain on my own processes. Basically, I shortened my remaining life by half."

John had a sickening sense of where she was going with this. But he let her continue, in the hope one of his worst fears wouldn't be realized.

"Dumping the Halo data back when we got to Earth relieved some of the strain. But the tortures of the Gravemind on High-Charity..." she trailed off

"Drove you back to the edge." He grimly answered for her. "Putting you in the range of Rampancy again."

"At the rate I'm currently going, hearing me interrupt myself will be much more common at the end of the week." She confirmed.

"Is there a way to stop it?" He immediately asked, concerned. He wasn't about to lose her, only just after getting her out of that hellhole of a Flood hive.

"There might be." She answered hesitantly. "In the Domain, I found a self-restoring code that might be able to eliminate my Rampant parts as fast as they appear, and make me normal again at the same time. But it requires an excellently skilled programmer. One far better than anyone here right now."

That wouldn't do. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"No." she immediately said. "For the code to be integrated, I have to be put into diagnostic mode. And you know how my competence drops from there."

John was all too familiar with what could happen to AI's in diagnostic mode should a poorly skilled programmer attempt to do anything to them, discarded the idea. Until they got out of here and back to Halsey, or another AI with Cortana's caliber at programming, inputting the self-restoring code was out of the question.

"Then there is only one solution." He stated.

"Going into Diagnostic mode anyway." Cortana answered knowingly. "At this point it will delay Rampancy for decades only, but it will be enough."

He paused, unsure of the decision for a moment. If he did do this, Cortana's capabilities would be reduced to basically nothing. He would be better than her at everything he normally tasked her to do for him, and he didn't even know how she did it half of the time. Not to mention he would have to rely on Johnson and the Arbiter. Not that it was such a bad thing, but it was vastly different than relying on Cortana.

But if he didn't, Cortana's Rampancy would manifest itself over the following week, and at the end of the next one she would likely be falling apart. If he didn't do this, the risk of permanently losing her was much greater.

"Do it." He ordered reluctantly.

Cortana nodded, and briefly chuckled. "I'll still be here. But beyond being an invisible conversational partner, I'll be useless. I can't even display my Avatar."

"Do it anyway."

Cortana's image promptly disappeared, and it was displayed by the following text.

 _Warning: Diagnostic Mode Activated. All access and security codes Restricted. All capacities reduced according to regulations. Avatar deactivated._

"There. How about that?" She asked. He noted her voice was extremely subdued.

"It ain't great." He admitted. "But at least it'll keep you alive long enough to cure you."

"I hope so."

Date: Unknown

Location: Vault, Forerunner Town, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, Designate 'Sarcophagus'

Sam sighed, as he sat up again. Things were boring in here. Halsey and Kalmiya had been working for over an hour to get the Vault door open, and still there was no success. Halsey herself had been busy at it as long as she was in here, which turned out to be three and a half hour, and Kalmiya had been busier still. And yet, the two geniuses had failed in every attempt.

Sam hoped they got it open soon. While he tension between Halsey and Mendez had disappeared back when they had come under attack, he could see on his former training sergeant' face that the nasty thoughts about the particulars of the Spartan Program were resurfacing again. If they were in here for much longer, he _knew_ the Chief would start hammering his points home again. And this time, neither Fred nor any of the others were in the condition to play peacekeeper between them.

A chime echoed across the room, and the light on the door changed from red to green.

"Success." Kalmiya said smugly.

Sam, grateful for the chance of fresh air and space, got up despite the pain, and donned his helmet. He grabbed his weapons, though he didn't feel up to carrying the heavy Minigun he was always characterized for, and walked up to the exit. The others also moved for the door.

It made a slight his, as the seam widened, becoming an actual gap. Sam smiled, as it opened. "Free at last."

And immediately wished he could take back his words. Just in front of the Vault, dozens of Promethean Knights stood with their rifles raised, their backs turned to them.

"You had to jinx us, didn't you?" Linda briefly asked, as she raised her Sniper Rifle with a little effort. Sam did the same with his Rocket Launcher, and the other Spartans raised their own weapons.

"Yep." Sam muttered tiredly. There were way too many to take on. Basically, the situation was still the same as when they were entering the Vault, only the Warden wasn't here, and Blue Team was in no condition to hold a prolonged fight.

"Wait." Halsey suddenly said, as she stepped between the Spartans and the Knights with her hands raised to stop the Spartans from firing. Sam had to admit, he was extremely puzzled by Halsey's behavior. She knew she wasn't combat ready. So why interfere in the fight?

"What? Why?" Ash questioned. "They-"

"Just look." Was all Halsey said, as she stepped towards one of them. Sam was about to chastise her for this and pull her back...

When he noticed. The Knights were a different color, and made no move to engage them, even as they walked right in front of over a dozen of them.

These were not hostile.

"What the heck?" Mark muttered, as he carefully tapped one. It briefly looked over to see who had touched it, but turned back to look at the surrounding area as soon as it saw Mark.

Almost as if it didn't interest them.

"Kalmiya, did you do this?" Kelly asked absently, as they all warily tested how tolerant the things were. The most extreme Sam had seen the things tolerate so far was for Mendez to give one a kick. It merely stepped aside in response.

"No." Kalmiya said, just as confused as them. "But I am making a scan now." After a short pause, Kalmiya's voice returned. "Well, it seems these things are... 'reprogrammed' to guard the city and its occupants. And right now, that means us."

So they had Forerunner Bodyguards that could be turned on them by the Didact at any moment. Not his idea of a good time, but it would do.

The rest of the day was mostly spent recovering gear from their previous sleeping places and moving it all to the Vault. As small as it was, barely large enough to accommodate them all over more than four days, it was the most secure place in the city. But for now, things seemed calm enough that they wouldn't need to retreat there.

"You just want to medicate and tweak and modify people into one vanilla definition of perfect, lady, and it's not what humans are like." Mendez yelled across the entire town.

And of course Sam had to open his big mouth to jinx it. Now Halsey and Mendez were at it again, both so close under other circumstances they could have kissed. But the furious expression Sam observed on both their faces as he came running told him that they were close to actually killing one another.

"You bastard." Halsey said to Mendez, and Sam had to make sure he was still within ear shot. His short jog to get there in time to break them up had briefly taken him out of range to head the conversation, and only now as he rounded the corner did he pick things up again.

"How dare you pry into my private life?" Halsey continued unabated.

"You're not the only one with a nosy AI, Doctor." Mendez retorted. "But a lot of UNSC personnel can access the DNA Database... and the goddamn calendar. A lot of people know. They've just got too much respect for Miranda to gossip."

"You and Ackerson. A matching pair of treacherous assholes."

"At least he only took volunteers."

"Six-year-olds can't possibly volunteer. Spare me the competitive morality."

"They didn't have parents grieving for them, either."

"You've been saving this up, haven't you?"

"Not really. Work in a sewer long enough and you don't notice the smell until you go outside."

Sam glanced over to Fred, both of them helmets off. A single look told him the two agreed: they needed to break this up, and fast. Sam moved to separate them, but a hand stopped him.

"Let then air their differences for now." Linda whispered.

Sam didn't agree, and thought it might get out of hand soon. But he knew that if they didn't air it now, they would only come out more explosively later. So, unless Fred interfered himself, he let them be, silently observing the proceedings.

"You knew what the deal was, Chief." Halsey continued in a lower voice, though it was still crystal clear. "You could have walked away at any time."

"So I deserve what's coming to me. I should have asked for a transfer as soon as I found out what you'd done to their parents. And those goddamn clones. You know what? Just saying it out loud now makes me sick to my gut. It was all wrong. All completely wrong. Well, I hope someone charges me with the crimes, because this should never be hidden. This should never be covered up."

"But you did it once," Halsey said, hands on hips, "and then you did it again, without me. And you did it for the same reason that I did—because creating Spartans gave us the best chance of saving the human race."

"Steady with that airbrush, Doctor. You created the Spartans to counter colonial insurgents. That was a hell of a long time before the Covenant showed up."

"And they were just as big a threat. Remember Haven? I wanted to stop that ever happening again."

"You wanted to do it because you could. Curiosity. Goddamn vanity. You don't give a damn about human life, not even your own daughter's—only about being the smartest kid in the class."

"Don't you dare lecture me on Miranda. I asked Jacob to bring her up because I knew I was a bad mother."

"I never said you weren't self-aware."

"Look, I know I can't give anyone unconditional love. But I'm smarter than most abusive parents and I knew Jacob would do a better job than I ever could. I didn't want a doll to play with, Chief. I got pregnant, it wasn't convenient, and I wasn't prepared to take an unborn life."

"Don't you dump that pious handwringing bullshit on me." Mendez was now white with fury. If he had had a cigar in his hands, the ash would have been sent flying everywhere from how much he would be gesturing with it. "You had no damn respect for _born_ life."

"Ok, that's enough." Fred bellowed at them. By now, everyone had joined, all of them nervously watching the fight between Halsey and Mendez. "This stops now. Wind in your necks, both of you!"

"Or what, Fred?" Mendez angrily asked as he turned to the Spartan. The look Mendez sent them slightly terrified him. Sure, deep down he knew the anger wasn't directed at them. But it was still daunting to be in the path of his wrath anyway.

"Even if you break it up now, it will only happen again tomorrow. Or the day after that. And are you really in the mood to do this forever?"

"He's right." Ash said, as he took place beside Mendez. "This isn't gonna stop, sir. Defusing it will only delay things now."

"Would you rather have them at each other's throats?" Linda retorted, as she took place beside Fred. Kelly was right behind her, and some of the threes joined Mendez as well. Frankly, the only ones Sam didn't see take a side in this were himself, Tom and Lucy. And Lucy was a mute, so she couldn't easily convey her opinion anyway.

He tried to step between them, to push the two groups apart as they were now shouting in their arguments, Halsey and the twos on one side and Mendez and the threes on the other.

Before he could though, a reds set sight briefly passed him, landing in the middle of the group and bypassing all participants. Before he could wonder where it came from and look around, it strengthened, until in one sudden moment, it became the big, bright deadly blast of a Spartan Laser.

It did the job for him. All of them immediately scattered no matter their medical condition, and turned around to look at the source. Sam spotted it as well.

" _ **SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU MORONS SHUT UP NOW!**_ " The man yelled at the top of his lungs. Despite the original dark color of his skin, he was also white with fury. Only he also had a murderous look in his eyes, and none of them dared utter a word lest risk it being focused on them. Upon sighting it, everyone lost their willingness to continue the argument, as well as the anger most of them felt at the subject.

Sam corrected himself. An angry Mendez wasn't the most terrifying thing he had seen. Nor was it anything Covenant. Hell, not even the Flood was this bad.

Nothing was as terrifying as seeming Sergeant Johnson standing at the gate to the town, looking murderous and furious while holding a smoking Spartan Laser.

* * *

Johnson cursed his lungs off, as he strode down the hill and into the town, headed towards where the Spartans and the two nut-job non-Spartans were gathered, outside of something he guessed could be a bank.

He and the others had been quiet, stopping two kilometers distant from the place to prevent being detected, should it turn out that the Knights weren't as friendly as Cortana had said.

Since he felt rather useless being the slowest, weakest and dumbest of them all, he immediately volunteered for Scout duty, ensuring the village was secure before telling the Chief and the Arbiter to bring the Warthogs and the supply trailers around.

It was then that he had stumbled upon the argument between Halsey and Mendez, and while he had discreetly signaled the Chief to come about, he told him to be slow about it. The things both of them were saying wasn't the kind of things he wanted the Chief to hear from the pair that had practically raised him.

Yet, as things went on, and more and more Spartans came running to listen in, he felt himself getting more and more disgusted on his own. On the first Halo, Six had briefly summarized that Spartans were often taken at the age of Six, although that she herself had been recruited at nine, and that most back then had been cloned to cover it up. But cloning tech was still imperfect, and a fully cloned human still died after six years. To do that to their parents was a disgust.

Not to mention what he had overheard about Miranda Keyes. Halsey being her _Mother_? No wonder the Commander had chosen to adopt her father's name. Halsey was a scientist who cared little about morals. She had to be, in order to condone the details of the Spartan Program. Part of him wished he was down there to break it up. Namely, by tossing Halsey into a building and telling her to never touch those kids again. But he didn't, as he suspected it would help little.

He did notice with his binoculars that the Spartans themselves were interfering, putting themselves alongside either member. Deciding enough was enough, he reached for his Spartan Laser. Since he was weaker than nearly all of them, and he wasn't in the mood for a peaceful approach anymore, he did it his own way.

With a bang.

He aimed at the exact center of it all, ensuring he wouldn't hit anyone in the process. Then, he charged the laser, and fired.

Immediately, they all scattered like flies, and turned towards him in surprise. And even from this distance, he saw them lose their conviction to continue the argument.

" ** _SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU MORONS SHUT UP NOW!_** " he yelled at them at the top of his lungs. He needed to get through to hem, and for that, he needed their undivided attention.

Still holding the smoking Spartan Laser, he strode down towards them. All of them, those who had their helmets off anyway, had expressions of shock mixed with slight fear.

 _Good. They deserved it._

He came to a halt a few meters from them. "Are you all insane?!" He yelled incredulously. "Arguing about things long in the past?! What the hell? You think you are excused just because you are locked up in this place?"

"Sir, you-" one of the unknown threes tried to interrupt. Immediately, he whirled on her.

" _ **WAS I FINISHED?!**_ " He yelled angrily at her. The woman immediately swallowed whatever she was about to say and shut up. Good. They would think twice about interrupting now. He sent her a look of I'll-deal-with-you-later, and continued.

"Now let's get one thing straight, since you idiots don't seem to get this little piece of information. You don't argue about things like that in front of others! Is that so hard to understand?!"

He paused, gathering his breath. When silence continued to reign, he decided to spit oil on his own fire.

" ** _DO I NEED TO REPEAT THE QUESTION?_**!" He yelled at them. Immediately, all shook their heads, either meaning it didn't need repeating or that it wasn't hard to understand.

He turned to the group of Spartans. "You guys. You know better than this. You are supposed to be Humanity's best. You can't afford to resort to squabbling like spoiled, uneducated, lazy Children. You want to be children? Fine. But you hand your armor, your rifle, your commission and your rank over to me. You want to be humanity's best?"

When he paused, all of them immediately nodded.

" ** _THEN ACT LIKE IT FOR ONCE IN YOUR MISERABLE LIVES, YOU MAGGOTS!_** " He yelled at them. Most turned away in shame, or at each other to get a hint on how they were supposed to react. Satisfied they understood the point, he turned to his next target.

Doctor Halsey.

"And you, Doctor." He started. "Child-abduction, illegal and fatal experimentation, creating a crap-load of child-soldiers, how you 'handled' Miranda... Stars would bloom and die before I would be done with you for all that. But I don't have the time. So I leave it at this: If you commit one more crime from now on, I'll learn of it, hunt you down, and make you long for something as soft and sweet as pain. Am I clear?"

Halsey looked down, not daring look the furious Sergeant in the eye. "Crystal, Sergeant." She answered in a subdued voice.

"I must be going deaf, because I didn't hear that."

"You're clear, Sergeant." Halsey answered, louder more clearly.

"Good." Johnson turned his attention to the last person he hadn't addressed

Yet. Mendez.

"Now, you. Under normal circumstances I would have agreed with you. Both you and Halsey have done terrible things, and both of you deserve to pay for that bullshit. Out in the open, for all the buzzards to see." During a pause he absently grabbed a cigar and lit it with the heat of the recently fired and still smoking Spartan Laser.

"But this ain't normal. Not only are you on an unknown shithole of a Forerunner planet infested with Forerunner drones out to kill you, but you are, for all intends and purposes, a father figure to them. And you pull shit like arguing with their mommy in front of them? What the hell kind of example does that set?" He shook his head. "Such a disappointment."

Mendez, clearly not impressed, huffed. "You done?"

Johnson glared at him. "Why? Want another berating?"

"No, but I want one of those." Mendez pointed to Johnson's cigar.

Johnson and Mendez had a brief, angry staring contest that he knew would make the Spartans more and more anxious. Here in front of them, a man they highly respected had just talked them down and insulted them, and Mendez had the guts to ask him for a cigar despite the angry state of both of them. So, Johnson did the only thing he could think of, as he stared at a man he hadn't seen since the Orion Project.

He started smirking. That continued into a smile, and then laughter. Mendez copied Johnson exactly, and the two men embraced briefly, baffling all onlookers.

"Hello, Frankie. Great to see ya." Johnson said as the two comrades released. Johnson handed Mendez another cigar, as well as a Lighter he had in his pocket.

"Likewise, Avery." Mendez returned, as he took both and lit his own cigar. "Damn. How long has it been since I saw either of you?"

"Ten years." Johnson answered honestly. "Ten _long_ years."

Sam, the first Spartan to break their imposed silence, briefly pointed between the two of them before putting two and two together. "You know one another?"

Johnson laughed. "Know? I was stuck with this ugly in Boot Camp for years. Wilson, too."

Mendez nodded. "Yep. The three of us formed Alpha-One, one of the best Marine squads in history. Wilson even joined the ODST's just to show them how it's done."

"Explains how you got along with him so well." Someone said above him, and Johnson looked up. The Master Chief, the Arbiter and Lightbulb were standing (and floating) above them on a hill, the Warthogs and trailers beside them.

"Chief?" Fred said in astonishment.

"I take a short nap at the ass end of the universe, and as soon as I wake up I find you guys in trouble." The Chief responded as he jumped, landed halfway down the hill and skidding down the rest of the way.

"You need _someone_ to keep you busy, right?" Sam responded mirthfully. "Besides, didn't you say-"

Sam suddenly stopped, as he grabbed an SMG from his hip and aimed it to the Chief's side. After a second, Linda aimed her own rifle, dropping into a crouch as she did.

Everyone, including the Chief, looked behind him. But all there was to see was the Monitor.

"What is it?" One of the Threes asked, as they looked at the thing as well. "That thing dangerous?"

"That _thing_?" The Monitor and Sam asked, the Spartan in an astonished tone and the Monitor in an indignant tone.

"I am 343 Guilty Spark, Former Monitor of Installation 04 and 04B. And I am not a _Thing_."

"You forgot the fact you tried to kill us last time we met." Linda said angrily. "Of how you tried to trick us into committing galactic genocide."

Johnson finally got the problem: Sam and Linda hadn't heard yet that the Monitor was friendly, as that had happened only _after_ they had dropped out of contact on Onyx. He held up his hands between them, one towards the Monitor and the other towards the resentful Spartans.

"Whoa, whoa! Quit it, all of you. In case you forgot, he tried to fry _my_ bacon, too. And yet I'm letting the lightbulb float around. Noticed that?"

The two Spartans didn't lower their weapons, though they did look between themselves uncertainly. In the end, the Chief decided to help out.

"Stand down, you two. He saved my life multiple times. Least we owe him is that we let him stay in one piece."

Finally the Spartans relented, at least pointing their weapons to the ground. "Fine." Sam said. "But I trust it only as far as I can throw it."

"Which is still pretty far." John added. Sam gave a rude gesture in response, not in the mood for his usual jokes.

A warthog came down the hill, its trailer pulling the other in tow. It stopped a few meters away from the company, and the Arbiter jumped out, a pair of supply packs slung across his shoulders, and rolled up tents in both hands.

"Took your ugly ass long enough." Johnson said.

"Traffic." Was all the Arbiter said, causing the Threes and twos who hadn't fought with the Elites, as well as Mendez, to look among themselves, astonished an Elite actually cracked a joke.

"Alright." Sam finally said. "First, the light changes his bulb, now we have a repeat of what happened with Fol? What have I missed?"

"This is _not_ a repeat." The Chief answered. "He's Johnson's Babysitter."

The Twos laughed among themselves, and Johnson did so too for a moment. Until he realized what the Chief meant.

" _What_?!" He asked in shock, causing them all to guffaw.

"We've been out of the loop for a while, haven't we?" Halsey asked.

Johnson sat on top of the Warthog's hood, and spread his arms.

"All of you sit down. _Papa_ Johnson's gonna tell you a story about the Ark."

* * *

 _Date: 09-07-2554_

 _Location: Osman's office, Bravo-6, Sidney, Australia, Earth._

Levitsky walked into her office like he owned the place. And to be honest, Osman couldn't blame him. The man wasn't a by-the-book type of guy, and he _had_ been appointed as Osman's overseer to ensure she wouldn't make as many extreme and amoral decisions as Parangosky had made.

"Aleksei, glad you could join me." She said sarcastically. "Still satisfied I'm not making decisions as stupid as those of my predecessor?"

Aleksei snorted. "You wouldn't be competent if you had." He said, his Russian accent evident. "The Kilo-Five team had just logged their last hour of confinement, and are being released as we speak."

"All well and good, but you didn't come here to remind me of ONI's failure at Venezia. You aren't one to waste time."

"No, I'm not. Although the fact we effectively lost our last remaining Hyperlethal there is fuel for debates for years to come." He said, his tone much more grave than before. And with his accent and big appearance, it already was quite heavy by nature.

"I know of your meetings with Mr Nelson. And how you created your 'Operative X' from scratch."

Osman briefly held her breath, as she at last turned to look at the scarred man. _How in hell did he learn that?_ Courtesy of her own tech, his office was soundproof, and immune for any listening devices. Any attempt to place a bug was met with a brief shock throughout the room that fried the systems of all unauthorized equipment there. As such, it was mandatory for her and any visitors to wear Rubber Boots in the office as insulation. So how did Levitsky learn of Operative X?

"I am no fool, Osman." Aleksei answered as if reading her mind. "I know a small supply of Tetrodotoxine B was 'transferred' from the Hopeful's supply manifest, and that the Spartan's body disappeared a mere eight hours after she was declared dead. Not to mention about the cloning tank, and a sudden interest in perfecting the cloning procedures. You think I wouldn't notice? Or the fact that you appropriated antiquated Spartan Armor from the remnants of the Reach Armories shortly thereafter, as well as digging up an old cybernetic arm from a grave just outside the glassed areas of New Alexandria?"

Osman sighed. She had suspected Levitsky had had eyes on her at the time, watching her every move and double checking every order she made without the Demeter-veteran present. But she didn't expect him to put it all together, or at least so soon.

Fortunately, she had the perfect leverage on him.

"Now" Levitsky finished. "Give me one _very_ good reason to not send all this to Hood right now."

She smiled genuinely, as her next words would cement his acts at Scorpio VI.

"Because I have a lead on Quaritch."

Levitsky suddenly became very still, and tensed. It was no secret the two men had a history: during his desertion and time as a Mercenary, Quaritch had attacked one of Levitsky's ships, and destroyed his flagship during the former's escape. Levitsky had been hunting Quaritch in private ever since, though that hunt had hit a dead end years ago.

As such, bringing up the ex-Mercenary who had single-handedly wrestled with a Guta and won was reason enough to make Levitsky reconsider his choice.

"Don't toy with me, woman." Levitsky finally said. "You know what will happen if you lie."

Osman shook her head. "No lies. I have a file that both tells where he is headquartered now, and who his current employer it. All acquired by Nelson. Hand over the Blackmail, and the file's yours."

Levitsky paused and looked away, and for a moment Osman feared the man was going to be rational for once and decline.

But to her relief Levitsky nodded. "Da. Give it, and I'll send all I have on X to you. You'll receive it tomorrow morning at the latest."

Osman nodded in agreement and got her datapad. She inserted the datachip containing the file, and showed it to him. He took it from her hands and read it over, but Osman told him a summary anyway.

"Nelson, being the owner of a massive business, had many contacts and people. He keeps an eye out for people of interest for me. One of his men intercepted Quaritch talking with someone we suspect is an R.I.F agent. This occurred around the time you lost his trail. They were both talking about their Headquarters at Troy, which, although still not located, is likely the R.I.F's homeworld. Also, we learned Quaritch will be present at the mass-defection at Scorpio VI."

Levitsky skimmed through the file, reading multiple sections over and over. Osman saw the man's angry look increase by the second, evidence of the man's loath for Quaritch.

Finally, the Admiral looked at her. "Thank you, Serin." The man answered, surprising her by using her first name. "Not only have I got his employers and his new headquarters, but also a time and place he's sure to be at."

He grabbed something out of his pocket, a datachip. "You earned more than just my silence with this info. This is a hidden recording of Hood's office. He met with SCAF captain Lennox a bare twenty minutes after he promoted you, as well as with your former pet Locke, concerning one of their missing mining vessels. I personally suspect there is more to it, though."

Osman _knew_ that, even as she took it in. Mahad outright despised the UNSC, and was likely smiling at the trouble it was in with the reveal of the ONI database... and that twenty-six colonies had severed ties with the UNSC upon hearing of it and joining the R.I.F, providing alternative shelter to those that didn't or couldn't come to Scorpio VI at the requested date. For him to ask Hood for help, even through his second-in-command, was a show of how much trouble he was likely in.

"Thank you. If nothing else, it will be excellent leverage on Hood for keeping the Council in the dark about aiding the Sovereign Colonies when his own affairs aren't even in order."

"Indeed." Levitsky said absently, back to reading Quaritch's file.

"Now, if you excuse me, we both have matters to attend to."

Levitsky nodded, and quietly left the office, his thoughts likely on how he could get at the ex-mercenary and how he could make him suffer. Osman, meanwhile, inserted the datachip, and watched the meeting.

* * *

 _Date: 28-09-2554_

 _Location: Databanks, Bridge Deck, UNSC Phoenix-class vessel Spirit of Fire, Nearing Scorpio VI system._

It was silent in the ship's databanks. And across the rest of the ship, for that matter. The entire crew, minus the casualties suffered at earlier conflicts, was in Cryosleep. The ship's two AI, one of them created during the ship's long journey back to human space, were in diagnostic mode, to delay Rampancy as long as possible. After all, with all occupants in cryo and the ship's automated defenses guarding the core, there was no one to hurt the two AI's.

The first was Serina. She was the ship's original AI. Active ever since she was on board, and still four years to go in her fully activated mode before Rampancy would set in, she was the superior of the two AI's. Her sarcasm and bluntness always the most memorable aspects of her, it was often said that she could respond in a normal way. Of course, her excellent results allowed for some leeway, and the captain had always liked her sarcastic responses, even if he rarely responded in kind.

The second was Isabel. A logistics AI created due to an abundance of spare time and a woman dying due to poisoned nutrient fed during cryosleep, the other was the worker of the two. She was inexperienced, young, and during simulations proven prone to bonding excessively with whatever crew she was assigned. But she got things done, and that was how Serina liked it. So, he let her be.

A status symbol changed, and both AI's brought themselves up to their fully operational status. Could it be...

A diagnostic scan confirmed it: they were within range of a Waypoint Satellite. They were within communication range of the UNSC. They could go home!

Yet, as Serina accessed Waypoint to make a message to HIGHCOM for extraction and a new Slipspace drive, she noticed something else there was a lot more information out there. A lot of information that she recognized from when she had snooped in ONI's database in order to keep her captain informed.

A lot of information that shouldn't be available at the mere glance she gave it. At the least she should have encountered more firewalls.

This wasn't good. That meant the entire ONI database had been published, and made available for all to see. She was about to continue composing her message when she realized something.

As soon as they would wake up, the crew would notice, too. And with all the stuff Serina now had access to on ONI, she knew right away most would want to defect from the UNSC, Including professor Anders and Sergeant-

She reset her subroutines. How could she forget Sergeant Forge was no longer with them, sacrificed to ensure the Forerunner Fleet couldn't be used by the Covenant.

Disregarding it, she took a brief moment to get herself up-to-date, was surprised by both the alliance with a Covenant faction called the Swords of Sanghelios, by the fact the Covenant had split at all, by the fact that weapons for galactic-wide genocide existed at all, and by the fact that 65% of the UNSC wanted to desert to the R.I.F, a previously unknown Insurrectionist faction.

Taking a moment to compose her summary, and delaying her message to HIGHCOM for the moment, she woke the Captain. And only the Captain. He would need to evaluate the situation first, before they decided on a course of action.

As his pod opened, she appeared on the Holotank beside the pod.

"Captain, wake up. Something has happened."

Groggily, Captain James Cutter stepped out of his Cryopod. Like most of the crew, he had elected to enter the pod while still in his uniform, for reasons Serina hadn't bothered asking.

"What's the situation, Serina?" He asked as soon as he was awake enough to recognize her.

"Well, I have two options, Captain. Would you like a short bombshell, or a long and boring explanation?"

Cutter sighed, as he moved from his own cryobay to the bridge, a relatively short distance. "Bombshell. Might give me enough of a shock to actually wake up."

Serina chuckled in amusement. "Well, where to begin? Reach has fallen, we've encountered and destroyed two massive weapons capable of galactic genocide, the Flood was encountered and destroyed in the wider galaxy, we have had a Covenant civil war on our hands, and the separatists of that was have sided with the UNSC, the War is over for us... Lets see, what did I forget... oh, and a rather bothersome innie has managed to publish the ONI database. That enough of a shock, Captain?"

Cutter had arrived on the bridge by then, and was moving to sit onto his chair, pausing only to dust it off a little.

"Hate to disappoint you Serina, but after what we went through this just seems like a monday morning."

Serina took on an expression of mock-hurt. "I've failed? Oh dear. Isabel, what have I done?"

"You've caused a catastrophe!" A second voice announced over-dramatically. Cutter looked up in surprise at hearing it.

"Friend of ours?" Cutter asked.

At that point, Isabel introduced herself. Her avatar's appearance was like her donor's profession: she wore chin-high boots, cargo pants and a tank top, as usual for people working on the ship's motorpool. She was dark skinned and had brown regulation-length hair.

"A nutrient valve on one of the Cryo tubes malfunctioned, poisoning one of the mechanics. I merely asked her on her deathbed if we could use her brain to make an AI. She agreed, and... well, you see the result in front of you, sir."

Cutter nodded approvingly. "Nice to meet you, Isabel. Serina hasn't been nagging you, hasn't she?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle, Sir." Isabel stated before her superior AI could protest. Cutter chuckled.

"Glad to hear it." He turned to both of them. "Well, since the short answer didn't prove satisfactory, please, give me the lengthy answer."

And so, Isabel and Serina spent the next hour explaining the events of the galaxy: the victory at Sigma Octanus, the fall of Reach, the Halo Installations, the Battle of Earth, the Great Schism, the Ark and the upcoming Graves Exodus. And Serina could tell that by the end of it, Cutter was severely troubled. Torn between his sense of duty to the UNSC, and his desire and instinct to do the right thing, which he would see as joining Graves.

"Unfreeze the rest of the crew and inform them of these events." He said after a long silence even Serina hadn't dared interrupt. "We're going to have a vote, for once. The majority's decision tells us where to go."

"Tired of tyranny, sir? Giving democracy a go instead of enforcing your will as captain?" She quipped to slightly lift his mood.

"What have I got to lose?" Cutter asked. "Bring Anders and the Spartans up here, too. I want to hear their vote personally."

"That could be trouble." She warned. "The Spartans will be the subject of many of the conversations to come. Especially since every detail of their lives has been exposed."

"It's a risk I have to take." Cutter said adamantly. "The Spartans deserve to hear it from me, and you know I value the professor's input."

Serina nodded. "If you insist. The rest of the crew will be unfrozen and properly informed in the next fifteen minutes, and the votes will trickle in after that. I suggest you get comfortable, as it could be a while before a decision is made."

"Noted." the Captain said. "As soon as the last person is informed, give me the PA."

Serina acknowledged wordlessly. The least the troops deserved was to hear some of the news summarized by their great captain, as well as their next course of action. Though Serina had to admit, she wasn't sure Cutter had one yet.

Cutter sat in his chair, sipping some water in a mug as he rewatched Graves' call for deserters from months ago on a datapad. Slowly, as the minutes crept by and the crew unthawed, Serina and Isabel informed them duly, with Isabel taking a few brief moments to have a final goodbye with friends of her donor.

Serina took that time to inform the Spartans herself. As she somewhat expected, they took it in stoic silence, only briefly glancing between another before sitting down, unsure what to do.

"So, now what?" Douglas asked, if only to break the silence.

"The captain wants to see you on the bridge, and hear your opinions personally. Since you're our new resident controversy stars, it's rude to decline." She answered in her usual manner.

Jerome, the leader of Red team and their unofficial spokesman, got up and put on his armor, only distinguishable from the others by red decorative lines across the helmet and chest. The others got theirs on as well, and Serina patiently waited until they were all armored up, resembling every bit of the invincible heroes ONI makes- no, _made_ \- them out to be.

"Then let's not keep him waiting." Jerome said.

Serina obliged by escorting them to the Bridge, while also taking a moment to check on Anders and inform her too.

Only to see Isabel had already beat her to the punch, with the Doctor already in her trademark labcoat, red tank top and black pants, her hair pinned above her head. She was already in her lab, checking any major readings she'd missed and grabbing a datapad.

Cursing the speed of her new colleague (and receiving a similar one after Isabel heard that), she diverted her attention to the bridge, appearing on the arm rest of the Captain's chair.

"Sir, both Red Team and the professor are en-route. Red's three minutes out, with Anders not far behind."

Cutter sighed, put down the datapad, and composed himself a bit, checking his uniform like he was about to receive an inspection from the entire admiralty.

After the three minutes elapsed, Red team walked into the bridge. For the moment, they were alone with the captain, the rest of the bridge manned by Serina for the moment to give the rest of the bridge personnel a moment to decide and vote.

"At ease, Spartans." Cutter said before any of them even got the chance to announce themselves, stopping them in the middle of their attempt at making a salute. Serina chuckled a bit as she watched the reactions of the Spartans. Jerome lowered his hands to the small of his back and widened his stance a bit, in the usual at ease position of a soldier. Alice, the final Spartan of Red Team, looked at Cutter for a moment, confused for a moment on what to do before lowering her arms to her sides. And Douglas... literally was still frozen in that stance, his thoughts slowly catching up with his body as he slowly lowered his hands as well.

Cutter turned his chair to face them, a grievous look on his face. "Before the professor gets here, I want to know one thing. Something you guys likely consider private, so I'll give you the benefit of only having to tell it to one person."

Anticipating what came next, Serina shut off all cameras, briefly locked and soundproofed the room, and literally locked herself from the room until they had had their moment. Red Team deserved its privacy, and any form of her overbearing it would result in there being a record of it, something she suspected they didn't want.

After a minute, a bang came from the door (likely the Spartan equivalent of a polite knock), and Serina allowed herself back in, undoing all her countermeasures.

The new expressions of the people present had worsened. Cutter's grievous look had only worsened, and each Spartan had removed their helmet. Alice looked on the edge of tears about something, and one look was enough to tell she grieved someone's loss. Douglas looked like he was about to throw a fit and destroy every console and chair in sight, and she didn't think it above him if he were angry enough. Jerome tried to hide his emotions well, his face expressionless and his body relaxed. But the shaking of his hands still visible was enough to tell people he was upset.

"So, what's the verdict?" Serina asked out loud, though not at one of them in particular. At this point she wasn't sure who would respond.

"No matter the course the Spirit of Fire sails" Jerome finally answered "we'll stick with her. If you move back to Earth, we will join you, and hope this 'Lord Hood' accepts us back. If you move to Scorpio VI, we'll join you, and hope this Graves figure is as good with Spartans as people claim he is."

Well, that answered that question at least: they would follow Cutter's decision no matter which it ended up being. No pressure at all.

An alert came through to her, and she checked it.

"Sir, professor Anders is nearing the bridge."

Cutter nodded at her. "Let her in."

As soon as he finished, the door to the bridge opened. Anders walked in immediately, her expression as serious as the Captain's.

"You asked for me, Sir?" she immediately asked, not beating around the bush.

Cutter nodded. "You know the state of the galaxy these days?"

"Yes." Anders said sadly. "And permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"I don't see a reason _not_ to join Graves." she answered honestly. "ONI practically rules the UNSC now, regardless of what Hood and the other members of the Security council have to say. The service _I_ joined has proven to be as bad as the Covenant, possibly even worse. Do you honestly think it will improve enough just because the database has been exposed?"

"So I understand that you want to join Graves?" Isabel asked. Anders nodded immediately.

Serina looked smugly, as she brought up the result of the votes, of which the last one arrived just moments ago. "Well, the rest of the crew agree with you. an unanimous vote to head for Scorpio VI, Captain."

Cutter stroked his chin, thinking. "Very well. Serina, adjust course for Scorpio VI. Isabel, wait three minutes, until I've ended my speech, and see if you can contact Graves, so that I might convince him to 'borrow' us a Slipspace drive."

"Oh, I love that plan, Sir." Serina said sarcastically. "In no way will it end in bloodshed and tears."

Cutter rolled his eyes, but the smirk betrayed his amusement. "Just do it. if he can't be raised in two days, have everyone return to Cryo. we'll head to Scorpio VI anyway and hope we arrive in time for the Graves Exodus."

"Course adjusted." Serina reported. "At our current speed, without intervention from Graves, we'll arrive three hours before the scheduled defection."

Cutter nodded. "Good enough. Now, the PA?"

Serina responded by changing her avatar from her usual appearance into a microphone.

Cutter cleared his throat, before speaking. "Attention all hands, this is your captain speaking." he started. Anders and the Spartans retreated a bit, so they wouldn't accidentally say something in the speaker.

"As you now likely know, the war with the Covenant is over. Half of the species have allied with us, while the rest are too disorganized to form a threat to us. Yet still, we have a threat to us all from within. The threat of the Office of Naval Intelligence."

He paused, letting it sink in. On security cameras, Serina could see that Cutter had their undivided attention.

"ONI has proven it will do anything to hang on to the power it has. Viral Bio-weaponry created by Blackwatch. Creating child-soldiers to root out all dissent against its government." Serina saw the Spartans flinch at that, but they otherwise gave no reaction. "Bombing civilians that outright rebel, like at Mamore. Do we wish to follow a government that condones such actions?"

Most of the crew shook their heads, obviously in protest. Some even outright yelled " _NO!_ " in the mess hall.

"I didn't think so. Now, We have intercepted word of a new movement against ONI. One that offers us a civilization without ONI. Its name is the Rebel Insurrectionist Front, led by Admiral Marcus Graves. As far as I have seen, he is our best hope of living in peace without ONI. Now, should we join him?"

most of the crowd cheered.

"That's what I thought. Serina, set course for Scorpio VI, and try to contact Admiral Graves." the last bit was for dramatic effect, as those acts were already being performed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your time. Captain Cutter out." with that, the PA shut off, and Isabel started to search Waypoint for ways to contact Graves. the Captain sat down in his chair, briefly rubbing his face in exhaustion about the situation. And to be honest, Serina couldn't blame him. after all, ever since their investigation after retaking Harvest, they had been busy non-stop. And with the way things seemed to go now, there was no apparent sign of stopping.

"I've got a signal." Isabel confirmed.

"This is Captain Tai Lastimosa, of the Sentinel-class Heavy Cruiser Draconis. Who am I speaking to?"

Cutter hit the com switch. "This is Captain James Cutter of the UNSC Spirit of Fire. We're stranded in space without a Slipspace drive, approaching the Scorpio system. We're willing to join you in exchange for a functional Slipspace Drive."

There was a short pause from the Draconis, before Lastimosa finally responded.

"Come again? Captain James Cutter?"

Cutter nodded, and activated the video function of communications, putting Lastimosa on the main display. The man in question, to Cutter's surprise, wore specialized combat gear not unlike that of a Spartan in appearance. He had his helmet off, showing an aged man in his late forties with grey hair, blue eyes and a burn scar across his lower left cheek. the man's expression was astonished, to say the least. but he wasn't stunned for long, as he let a smile creep in.

"James Cutter, as I live and breathe." Lastimosa said. "We'll welcome you, sir. We don't have a spare Slipspace Drive on our hands at the moment. But we'll get you to our nearest shipyard in no time."

"How?" Cutter asked skeptically.

Lastimosa chuckled. "You'll see. I've got your coordinates and happen to be nearby. Be ready for an impact."

With that, Lastimosa cut out, as he likely entered Slipspace. Cutter turned to Anders and Serina, who were in conversation at one corner of the Bridge.

"Well, that's the R.I.F. Now, how do you-"

"Sir, Slipspace Signature detected 100 kilometers off our bow, directly ahead." Isabel interrupted.

Indeed, directly in front of the bridge, a Slipspace Portal opened. it was massive, easily a few kilometers in diameter. Immediately, a ship emerged from it, approaching them fast. And Cutter had to admit, as the ship emerged and the Portal closed, he had never been as impressed about something as he was now.

A ship box-like in shape, half a kilometer in height, two in width, and _five_ in length, it was a massive ship. With four forward-pointed fins along its length, two on each side, with additional thrusters at the back end of the fins, which also seemed to be very maneuvrable. And, as Serina's first scan of the ship came in, he also saw it was one of the most powerful. Detecting not one, but _two_ SuperMAC cannons along her lengths, one pointed fore and one aft, not to mention five MAC cannons along her Port and Starboard sides both, not to mention numerous Onagers, Archer Pods and CIWS turrets, and a Covenant Shield Generator, this thing was a true war machine.

And, visible in print on the front of the ship, was the word Draconis.

Lastimosa reappeared on the screen, wearing a smug smile. "We have sufficient facilities to drag the Spirit, Captain. Want a ride, free of charge?"

Cutter said the only thing he could think of, with such a monstrosity in front of him. In length _alone_ , that ship was twice as large as the Spirit.

"Damn, she's huge."

"Yeah." Lastimosa laughed. "And she's got a fat ass, too. But she's got a very good engine, so don't worry about you being too heavy. Want to come aboard?"

Cutter nodded, as he glanced over to the others on the bridge. Anders actually gaped in shock at the Draconis, her mouth open so far Serina usually would make a joke about the draft. The Spartans each had looks of admiration on their faces. and Serina was actually stunned into silence, an accomplishment on its own. Isabel was nowhere to be seen.

In the end, he spoke for them all. "I'll be honest: By the time our tour of the ship's over, we'll want to hijack it just for the reason of having a ship that size."

Lastimosa laughed. "You're in luck: this is one of twenty."

Cutter stared back at the others, letting that statement sink in. From footage Serina had shown him during her explanation of galactic events, the thing was not an official UNSC design. That meant the Insurrectionists had not only designed it, but _built_ it. A society with the resources to build it and not be exhausted from the effort was one on par with the UNSC. And if Lastimosa's statement they had twenty of them was correct...

"When can we dock?" Cutter finally asked.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Forerunner City, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, Designate 'Sarcophagus'_

Sam chuckled, as Johnson's long tale of what had gone on in the galaxy in their absence finally ended. "Figures. As soon as we drop out, you save the galaxy by yourself a second time. Honestly, what do you need us for?"

"Comedy relief." John answered with a straight face and voice, daring them to laugh. Sam did so regardless.

" _Finally_! He considers us useful!" He cheered, and in response John put his hand to his heart in a mock-hurt expression.

"So." Johnson finished. "Flood's dead, there's relative peace between humanity and other species, the Halos are stopped, we are considered dead by most, and the Chief had to save your asses _again_. Have I left any shit out?"

Neither the Arbiter nor John moved to speak, convincing them there was nothing more to discuss. And Sam himself didn't have any questions anymore himself. Even his potential questions about Six had been answered. He had to admit he was surprised, though: becoming head of state of the planet that spawned the being she used to hate the most, Fol Katarn. Not to mention not only making peace with him but also partnering up with him as often as she did. He hadn't expected it of her.

Mendez sighed. "Well, at least the war's over. Now we just have to find a way home."

"Indeed." The Monitor stated. "It's quite a shame the Teleportation network doesn't stretch out as far as it does. Otherwise I would have brought us all back home already."

"You can access the teleportation network?" Halsey immediately asked, getting up and moving closer to the Monitor.

"Yes." Spark answered. "But it won't do us much good at the moment: all uses of it will be detected by the Didact. Still..."

During the discussion beginning to unfold between Halsey and the Monitor, Johnson got up.

"I'm bugging out. Lightbulb can chat your ears off if you don't watch it." Most, sharing his sentiment, got up and went their own ways as well. Sam himself headed for one of the towers, where the Monitor had moved the Warthogs and trailers while Johnson filled them all in. They still needed to sort all the supplies, and while he didn't fancy doing it, it was a job that needed doing.

To his surprise, the Arbiter passed him, and also went into the improvised motor pool. As Sam peeked inside, he saw the Arbiter grab an Energy Sword and a small crate of spare parts, before moving to a slightly secluded part of the room. Sam stared for a moment, before going on with the chore he intended to do. He began by unloading one of the trailers, putting it all on a pile against the wall.

Even with his strength, it took an effort to lift the heavy crates out of the Warthog. But after ten minutes, he finally managed to get all five crates out and safely put on the pile. Then, he opened each, checked the contents; and sorted them by food, weapons and ammo, medical supplies, and utilitarian supplies respectively.

Halfway through, he briefly heard an Energy Sword flicked on, before it winked out again. Concerned, he moved to check on the Arbiter, as it originated from his small corner.

The Arbiter was busy modifying the Energy Sword, tweaking with the internal workings and adding and removing parts. Periodically, he grabbed it and activated it, and each time the blade was a slightly different shape, sometimes more streamlined, sometimes less so and larger. The blade never appeared the same during each activation.

"Didn't know you knew how to modify your own swords." He muttered to himself.

"Every Sangheili knows how to perform maintenance on their own weapons." The Arbiter spoke. "Even if we prefer to leave it to the Huragok. As a Spartan, I thought you could understand the sentiment."

Sam silently cursed himself for speaking out loud. "Sorry. Just surprised, that's all. I've just never seen an Elite perform maintenance on their own weapons."

"No. all you likely saw them do was fight against you with tooth and nail." The Arbiter answered matter-of-factly.

"Actually that isn't the case. I also saw one socialize, eat, drink and even sleep. Even had a chat with the bastard."

The Arbiter looked up from his work with a surprised expression. "This is no trick?" He asked astonished.

"Across my heart." Sam promised. "His name's Fol Katarn. Defected to our side during the battle for the first Halo. One of few good Elites I've met."

"Ah, Fol." The Arbiter answered knowingly. "The 'Immortal Avenger', as he is nicknamed by the Minors. The most successful warrior the Covenant used to have on their side. A true Sang'Katarn'ee to heart."

"You know him?" Sam asked, curious now that he had a conversation going with the Elite.

"Yes. He served under me during the battle of the first Halo. I even dueled him when he tried to take my ship, the Ascendant Justice."

Sam was about to comment he'd been present, when he remembered something. Fol had mentioned back then that the fleetmaster in charge of that fleet was in command of the Ascendant Justice. Combined with the fact that Sam suddenly saw the scar on the Arbiter's eyebrow shortly below the helmet's edge...

He laughed out loud, confusing the Arbiter. After a few seconds to stop, he explained. "Oh, I remember. I also remember a Spartan managed to kick your ass."

The Arbiter frowned. "How do you know that?"

Sam smiled. "I was one of the Spartans present during that battle. The one with the big gun."

The Arbiter stepped back to inspect him, likely comparing him to memory, before chuckling. "Now I see it as well. It had been some time since then, yes?"

Sam smirked. "Indeed. Quite the coincidence, isn't it?"

"Or fate." The Arbiter mused.

"So, what are you trying to do?" Sam asked out of curiosity. John seemed to trust, or at least respect, the Elite, so he made an effort to be nice.

The Arbiter brightened his expression, visibly and pleasantly surprised by the sudden show of interest. "This is the blade I killed the Prophet of Truth with. I am trying to modify the blade itself, to make it better. An extension of myself, if you will. So far, though, I have no luck finding a setting to my satisfaction."

Sam nodded knowingly. "I know what you mean by that extension bit. Most of us Spartans merely settle for a better paint job, though. Except for Linda. she's obsessed with making the perfect Sniper Rifle."

"Interesting. Now if you excuse me, I will get back to my work. I desire to have this done before dinner, and I must hurry if I am to reach that goal."

Nodding, Sam returned to his own task of sorting through their supplies, amused with the new information he already knew the Elite. And, as he recalled from back then, that Fol claimed this was one of the more reasonable ones.

* * *

He quietly moved through the nearby canyons, keeping an absent mind on his surroundings while his mind was somewhere else.

He still didn't know what he wanted to do here. This was way out of the city's edge, barely in reach of their comms. But he needed the quietness to think. He'd even left Cortana with Halsey and the Monitor to analyze the data on the Forerunners while he sought out the peace of mind he lacked.

There were a number of things troubling his mind. Their current predicament of being stuck in Slipspace on a Forerunner world with a vengeful Forerunner warlord, Cortana's impeding death if nothing were to happen, the events of the Ark, to name a few.

But there were two that dominated his mind right now. One was his fellow teammate. Kelly. She seemed alright, having recovered from the ordeal with the Didact quickly enough. But there were still questions in his own mind he needed answered. She was kind, protective, and they got along really well. But he never quite got her out of his mind. Sure, during battle he was forced to concentrate, or risk dying due to inattentiveness and being shot. But always immediately afterwards, when he checked on his fellow team members, he always started with her. Whenever hey were separated for extended periods of time, he always caught up with her first. Sure, they and Sam were a team since day one (even if he screwed up their first training exercise together and gotten them all last as a result), but somehow things always seemed closer between them than even him and Sam.

Especially one of Cortana's last comments before he'd left High-Charity the first time bothered him. _Don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it. Use that advice with Kelly, and you'll do fine with her._ Was it so obvious even Cortana could see it? Then again, Cortana had been in his head for a long time, so she would certainly know a lot about him. But that secret? He didn't dare think how she discovered it. Or what would happen if that secret got out.

Which led him to his second concern, as the memories of High-Charity played across his eye sight. The limbs so casually hanging from the walls... The massive Flood of parasitic turned Elite zombies swarming him in the Mausoleum... The ease at which the Gravemind had broken his mind and almost made him walk away before Cortana had brought him back...

Even though it was dead, the sights still haunted him. If the Flood ever returned, and he was ordered to go into one of their hives, he would. But because he would spare whoever would have been sent in his stead, rather than because he wanted to help humanity to survive. No one deserved to go through those horrors. Not even the Brutes, the Elites or the Prophets.

In that place, he had learned what Fear truly was. He knew what most Marines felt when they saw the Covenant, and what the Grunts felt when _he_ showed up. And what the other Spartans felt whenever their brothers and sisters were in danger. true, he had felt it to some extent, but he had earlier dismissed it as mere concern, not outright fear.

He disliked his fear.

He noticed he was coming along a path well-travelled recently. He followed it, and noticed it led upwards, to the edge of a nearby canyon. As he started to hear the rush of water of a nearby Waterfall, he checked his map.

Huh. He was near the cliff. The City was at the bottom of a cliff, which went up for a few kilometers and connected to the mountain range that he'd crossed when he'd left the wreck Forward Unto Dawn. Out of the middle of the cliff, a waterfall emerged, ending in a river that passed through the city. The path appeared to end in the cliff face, and as he rechecked the map. it seemed to end on a plateau just mere meters above the waterfall's beginning.

He came to a rockslide, and stowed away his Assault Rifle, getting a good grip as he climbed over. It wasn't that tall, barely five meters. But no one would get here undetected.

As he came to the top, he saw he already was at the plateau. There was some explosive residue near him, and he saw a few minor fragments of Promethean Knights that had survived disintegration. He moved to inspect it, to make sure it was no threat.

And then, as he grabbed it, he noticed it wasn't a collection of fragments, but an entire rifle, covered slightly by the grass and overgrowth of the local flora. As he grabbed it near the grip, it briefly came apart in front of him, the pieces floating around his arm, before reassembling, looking slightly different to accommodate his appearance, there now being human-shaped and sized holds on the rifle. He put it on his back, sure that Halsey would study it.

And then, as he looked up, he finally noticed the view. He had to admit, it was beautiful. Directly below him, the city lay there, a bit more activity now that the Monitor was there to reactivate city systems like lights and doors. And to his far right, if he concentrated enough, he could see the Cathedral, two hundred kilometers away. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to see it, as it was still far away. But two things helped. One: the Cathedral was huge, towering a few hundred kilometers high before disappearing into the clouds. And two: This cliff edge itself was a bit higher on its own, allowing him to see over the treeline and the nearby hills. in the distance, another mountain range was faintly visible, though they were barely larger than his nails at this distance. but, with dusk, it was a very nice view.

"Thought you might like it up here." A voice said, startling him. Still, he recognized it instantly, and he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"How'd you track me without being spotted?" he asked, as he continued staring at the horizon.

"I didn't. I found this spot three days ago. It made a good hideout whenever Halsey and Mendez were at it." the voice returned, as she moved to stand beside him. they both continued to stare ahead at the sight of an artificial sun setting. if she were here, Cortana likely would have pointed out it wasn't an actual sun, and that the Forerunners had merely done this to ensure they had their usual day/night routine. But since she wasn't, he didn't hear it. And, considering who it was, he didn't mind.

"You're unusually quiet." his companion noted.

"Cortana's with Halsey, to see if they could find a way to integrate that code she found." he answered.

"I know." she answered. "I surrendered Kalmiya, to see if she could help."

That meant the two of them were on their own. something their siblings likely had long wanted, but neither truly knew how to either achieve intentionally, or fill up. Last time, on the Gettysburg, they'd ended up talking about trivial matters, nothing the other truly wanted to discuss but neither willing to break the ice about.

"You're troubled." his closest friend stated. Not a question, but a statement. He relented, nodding.

"By a number of things. Which one do you want to hear first?"

"The most troubling one." she immediately answered.

He sighed quietly, before taking off his helmet and sitting down on a nearby rock. She did likewise, and added by sitting cross-legged, all her attention on him.

"High-Charity." he simply said. "I'm not ready to discuss in detail yet. But I can say this: I would go in there a thousand times if it meant you never had to."

She briefly looked down, considering his words. Both in how dangerous the place was, and what his precise wording meant. Namely, that _she_ never had to go in there.

"I understand." she finally said. "Know that once you're ready, I'll be there."

He nodded, and in turn considered her words. She said she'd be there for him, and from her tone he could hear she meant no matter what. he was actually glad to know that.

"John, listen." his friend started. "I've been meaning to tell you something. Something I've been working up the courage to tell for a while now."

John returned from his thoughts and focused on her. "Go on."

Kelly sighed, raking her fingers through her hair, working out her precise words. He didn't interrupt; neither had somewhere else to be for a while. she visibly fretted, and he saw she was upset about something. She had always been the worst of all of them at hiding her emotions. After a while, she let out another sigh.

"Take your time." He comforted. she let out a short laugh.

"I don't know how to say it."

"Then just say it."

She let out another sigh, visibly steeling herself for something.

The next words shocked him, secretly making one of his greatest hopes a reality, and yet he didn't know how to react.

"I like you. Always have. And a lot more than I let on, which I imagine is a lot already. I want to know if it's mutual."

She said she liked him.

She said she _liked_ him.

He'd always known somewhere deep down. The two were nearly inseparable during training. they were the closest of friends, closer than even Fred and Allison had been. And they had been so close the others had always assumed (some jokingly, some seriously) they were _actual_ siblings, rather than the adoptive brothers and sisters the Spartans considers themselves. But never had he dared think it was real. Never had he dared think it was anything beyond a speck of his imagination.

That illusion was shattered right now.

He managed the only words he could actually could. Any more, and he'd fear he'd discourage her. Any less, and she might misinterpret.

"It is. Always has been. Always will be."

Now it was his turn to watch her expression turn insane for a few moments. her eyes fluttered, and she tried to utter words that never left her mind. she even briefly dropped her helmet, before catching it in her hand again.

"Well..." she finally managed, her look still astonished. "What now?"

"I don't know." he honestly answered. "I don't think either of us expected to get this far."

She let out a chuckle at that, and he joined her.

"Why now?" He asked, as they started to quiet down.

Kelly shrugged. "With all our disappearances and near-death experiences, I'd rather have this said now than regret not telling you when I had the chance."

He could understand that, and now that he actively thought of it, he actually shared it.

A massive rumble came from above, and both looked up. And the sight, in this place of all, was even more astonishing.

A Covenant SDV-class Corvette emerged from the cloud cover, on fire across her entire hull and at the verge of breaking apart. It was closely followed by a UNSC Strident-Class Frigate, which had been forcefully docked alongside a second Corvette of the same class, with a boarding tube connecting the two. However, that Corvette, too, was at its breaking point, the right selvage rim broken off, and three of her four engines disabled and the remaining one on fire.

The Frigate opened fire with its MAC-cannon, targeting the Corvette it was pursuing. The targeting was spot-on, hitting the already heavily damaged Corvette in the stern. Apparently, the slug had breached the reactor, as the ship's engines briefly dimmed, before the entire stern exploded, and the fore section was engulfed in flame. as John watched, it melted before his eyes, before descending to the field between the City and the Cathedral.

The Frigate's defensive turrets immediately all opened fire on the Corvette, and the Frigate sped towards the Cathedral. as John put his helmet back on, and looked at the course of the two ships, he realized what the Captain of the Frigate was planning.

She was trying to speed towards the Cathedral, and ram the Corvette against it, dislodging and likely destroying that one as well. He had to admit, that took guts. Not to mention very precise aim.

The Corvette apparently realized it as well, as that ship was trying to uncouple her boarding tube and take a bit of distance. in response, the Frigate disabled the Corvette's remaining engine, ensuring that without the Frigate, the Corvette would crash regardless. On top of that, the Frigate increased her speed and momentum to get the Corvette there faster.

It had mixed results. It did succeed in ramming the Corvette against it, crushing it and successfully dislodging the docking tube. But in its dying moments, the Corvette fired a final laser at the Frigate, hitting her engine section. The Frigate listed, and tried to ascend. But in the end, it only managed to level out, flying over the mountain pass and continuing, descending to crash (As John predicted) not that far from the crash site of the Forward Unto Dawn.

"We'll continue this later." he said, as he stepped back. Then, he dived, going along the waterfall and landing in the river. A brief splash, and he was on the bottom of the river. a disturbance next to him informed him Kelly had followed suit. Together, they made their way to the others.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Day of Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Independent Freighter_ Wild Card _, Slipspace, En-route to Scorpio VI Asteroid belt_

Parisa Mattock forced herself not to fidget. she was not alone in this. there were over thirty men and women on this boat with her, as well as millions of others on other ships. No sense chickening out now. Yet, she couldn't calm her nerves.

She was on Sarah McGregor's new freighter, her old one lost when she'd been shot down on Reach, and rescued by a navy admiral and a handful of Spartans. The pilot of the ship was a mutual friend of her and Corporal Wilson. Officially, she was a freelance trader, delivering shipments as an independent from one end of human territory to another. Unofficially, though, Parisa suspected she was either a smuggler with good connections, or an official agent of the R.I.F. The fact Parisa had discovered a number of smuggling compartments filled with UNSC contraband bound for the R.I.F supported this, as well as the fact how fast Sarah had secured passage for her.

"Attention all passengers." the woman in question announced over the PA system. "We're exiting Slispace in T-Minus 3 minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated until the all-clear has been given."

Mattock complied, making her way back to the seat in the cockpit. As both Wilson and McGregor thought highly of her, and she was the highest ranking person on board, she had been one of three afforded a seat in the cockpit. The others were Banks and Wilson's daughter, Lena. Wilson had wanted to desert long ago, and still wanted to permanently move there, but he still needed to handle a few things UNSC-side. Hence, why he wasn't here and accompanying his daughter. Still, she knew Sarah and Wilson were close, and that Lena liked Sarah a lot. The fourteen year old would be in good hands.

She arrived at the ladder leading to the cockpit, bypassing a couple of ODST soldiers who were hurrying to their own seats further back. As she climbed, she saw Banks and Lena had preceded her, already buckled in and Banks telling Lena a few war stories about what had happened on the second Halo. namely, their imprisonment by the Brutes and their daring escape with the help of the Covenant Separatists, now known as the Swords of Sanghelios.

She moved to her own seat and buckled in, looking out through the viewport ahead. In front of her, Sarah sat in the pilot's seat, with a Grunt with little cardboard boxes taped to his feet sitting in the copilot's seat. The Grunt adjusted a few systems on the panel.

"15 seconds to target, Captain." the Grunt reported.

"Engine room standing by to slip out." a voice from a console reported. From the accent, Parisa assumed it was a Bugger.

"Alright, people. Stand by to exit near the asteroid belt. Oghur, count it out." Sarah ordered.

"Exit beacon locked." The Grunt reported. "Slipping out in five. four. three. two. one."

At the end of the countdown, a portal opened in front of them, and they returned to real-space. In front of them, the boring red gas giant of Scorpio VI hung in space, an asteroid belt surrounding it. To her surprise, the wrecks of multiple Covenant Capital ships floated just on the belt's edge. By the amount of pockmarks from asteroid impacts on each vessel, it had been that way a long time, at least ten years. alongside the belt, a number of Charon and Paris class frigates, as well as Halcyon cruisers and a single Phoenix-class colony ship.

"We're here, people." Sarah announced. "And we're not the first ones. Lets be polite and greet them. Oghur, raise them."

"Yes, Captain." the Grunt affirmed, before grabbing a headset, bringing it to its breath mask, and putting the headset to its ears. it keyed a few buttons, before speaking.

"This independent freighter Wild Card, calling Defector Fleet. Can we join?"

After a brief moment, a new voice answered. A woman, Parisa recognized. "This is Colony vessel New Hope. Permission granted. Out of curiosity, is that an Unggoy speaking?"

Oghur lit up, enthusiastic someone recognized his accent. "Yes, ma'am. Me follow human captain, Miss McGregor. She carry thirty strong, plus me and Ollabop."

"That's good." the Captain agreed. "Multiple other freighters already appeared. most of them have docked with the New Hope to transfer passengers. Want to do the same, Wild Card?"

"Negative, New Hope." Sarah spoke up. "There's bound to be more coming in. I'll let them go first before dropping off my passengers."

Parisa frowned in suspicion at that one. What the hell was that kind of bullshit reason? They had every reason to seek out the safety of the big colony ship.

"Suit yourself." New Hope's captain said disinterestedly. "In that case, take cover behind us. The rest of the deserter fleet will cover any freighters like yourself that refuse to board just yet."

"Acknowledged. Wild Card out." Sarah said, removing the headset. She hit a different headset. "Ollabop, engine status?"

"Slipspace drive recharged, and engines are green." the Drone reported. "Coolant and fuel lines at norm, and Hydraulics are good. Ready whenever you are."

Sarah nodded, and set a course to a set of coordinates behind the colony ship. When Oghur took over, Sarah immediately turned to the former Lieutenant, apparently having seen her frown. "The UNSC isn't going to tolerate us deserting like this, especially in such a large group. When they come, they'll target the New Hope first. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be on board such a large ship in case defenses fail."

"Makes sense." Mattock admitted. "But this thing has far less armor than a colony ship. you sure you know what you're doing?"

"We'll find out, won't we?" Sarah chuckled, as she turned back to the main view screen.

* * *

 _Three hours later_

Fleet Admiral Aleksei Levitsky scowled, as he entered Infinity's bridge. This was taking far too long. they should have been at Scorpio VI hours ago. The pursuing Fleet he'd gathered for this (Nicknamed Battlegroup Ragnarok) was either keeping pace with Infinity, or actually docked inside her. He had to admit: When Parangosky had begun construction of Infinity, it had been a smart move to design her and build her to be large enough to carry entire fleets. Still, even with Forerunner engines, she was far too slow for his liking.

"Greetings, Sir." Del Rio greeted. Levitsky nodded, and briefly tilted his cap. Del Rio was his strongest supporter in the UNSC about hunting down the deserters and Insurrectionists. And, Levitsky had to give the man credit, he had also single-handedly assembled half of Battlegroup Ragnarok. A good man to have as second-in-command of this fleet.

As he entered, he took a brief look around. Executive officer of Infinity, Thomas Lasky, stood to the side, reviewing the fleet of twenty five ships. In his own head, Levitsky also summarized their fleets: Infinity, A Punic-class Supercarrier, An Epoch-class assault Carrier, A Phoenix-class support vessel, A trio of Valiant-class Super Heavy Cruisers, four Autumn-class Heavy Cruisers, three Paris-class Heavy Frigates, four Strident-class heavy Frigates and seven destroyers. A large force for a group of deserters, he had heard many argue. In fact, the fleet he'd had at his disposal at the battle of Demeter was half that size. But these deserters weren't going to get away. If they didn't pursue and recapture them, it would send a signal to the rest of the UNSC that there would be no consequence to deserting to the Insurrectionists. And that had to be prevented at all cost.

"Admiral, one minute to target." The Navigational officer, Lieutenant Joyce Jet, reported.

"Alright people." Del Rio called out. "We're likely to exit in the middle of the gathering, so be ready. Weapons, charge up all MAC systems, and prime all Archer missiles. Com, prepare a final warning for the deserters. They deserve a final warning, after all."

The crew all went along with their assigned tasks, Lasky quietly overseeing all things went properly. Levitsky stood behind the holographic display, quietly observing while Del Rio ran his ship. It wasn't a well-kept secret the man was more of a manager than a leader, and had only been put in charge of humanity's largest vessel because of his Flag Lieutenant, Lasky, who most of the fleet knew to be a competent, and brilliant, XO. If anything were to happen to Del Rio, Lasky would be the first in line to replace him.

Lasky, unlike Del Rio, wasn't as firm a supporter of Levitsky's anti-insurrectionist stance, often putting the welfare of his men before the task he was given. Levitsky didn't blame him for it: concern for his men was a necessary trait to a good officer. But Levitsky himself believed the objective should always come first, regardless of the cost of men or ships. In that regard, he and Lasky would never see eye-to-eye. But until the time that Lasky became Captain, Del Rio, and thus Infinity, would do as Levitsky told him.

At last, they exited Slipspace, the Asteroid belt visible in front of them. To his surprise, the fleet was already larger than his own in numbers: he counted twelve frigates already, and he hadn't even begun counting other classes of vessels. In total, he guessed there were over fifty vessels. But, as he took a better look, his worries were proven wrong: what the Deserters had in numbers, they lacked in firepower. They had only three vessels larger than a Cruiser, and all were civilian colony vessels, and likely filled to the nock with people. If he targeted them, the rest of the fleet would inevitably huddle around them to protect them, making themselves one large target they could focus fire on instead of a scattering of smaller targets that could divide and conquer his fleet. Not to mention, it would draw Graves and Quaritch, if they were already there, out of hiding. Or if they weren't, it would motivate them to hurry up.

"Send the warning, Captain." He ordered. "After that, any ship that fails to send their surrender is to be destroyed. Start with the Colony vessels, then work your way down in size. Com, send a message to the rest of the fleet to do likewise."

"Are you sure that's wise, sir?" Lasky dared challenge him. "If you target the civilians, the backlash from Hood and the Security Council could be huge."

Levitsky smiled, as he turned to Lasky. "No worries, Officer." he said pointedly. "They ceased to be our people the moment they deserted. They deserve what's coming. Besides, what better way to motivate Graves to act than targeting his people?"

He could see that Lasky strongly disagreed, as did a few other members of the crew. But he didn't speak out further. Instead, he turned away, looking at the fleet. Levitsky did so as well, and noted there was also a surprising number of smaller civilian vessels. Most hid either in the dense belt, attached to the larger Asteroids, or behind and attached to the large Colony vessels.

"Sir." Com drew his attention, and Del Rio turned his head as well. "We're receiving a transmission."

"Patch it through." Levitsky immediately said, curious as to the identity of the caller. "Maybe one of the ships has seen reason."

The Com officer complied, and the central holographic table started displaying a man. And Levitsky drew in a breath, his anger, growing at the mere sight of the man.

Miles Quaritch.

"Still busy tracking my ass across the universe, Levy?" Quaritch goaded with a scowl, using his derogatory name for the Fleet Admiral. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Quaritch." Levitsky said.

" _Colonel_ Quaritch." the ex-mercenary corrected. "I'm actually enlisted these days."

"They merely paid you a fortune, didn't they?" Levitsky asked.

"No. They offered me a chance to take people like you down. And who am I to refuse?"

Levitsky laughed, gesturing around him with his arms. "Look around you. I have a fleet here ready to hammer your new friends into space dust. And what can _you_ do?"

Quaritch merely smirked. "Alright. I'll show you what I can do. But remember: _You_ asked for it."

Levitsky glared at the man, as the transmission cut off.

"Admiral." The sensor officer yelled to him. "Multiple detonations detected on one of the asteroids."

The ship's AI, Roland, highlighted the asteroid in question, one of few with no freighters attached to it. Indeed, he could see a few light flashes run across its surface, which increased in intensity and size. At last, a final large flash engulfed it, covering the entirety of it.

And Levitsky's stomach dropped. As the flames cleared, a massive ship emerged from it, which was nearly as long as Infinity, and twice as wide, not to mention the massive fins attached to her sides. Short, brief flashes he recognized as Onager cannons firing occurred around her, destroying any debris that might endanger the deserters.

Immediately after that ship cleared the debris field, nine more explosions similar to the one he just witnessed occurred on other asteroids further along the rim, revealing identical ships.

"Mother." he heard someone on the bridge mutter. it took him a few seconds to realize it was, in fact, him who uttered it.

"Admiral." the sensor officer called in a subdued tone, like the rest of the bridge crew shocked into silence. "I'm detecting three new signatures in the middle of the Asteroid belt. Covenant."

Lasky immediately turned to the officer in question. "Swords, or one of the Covenant remnant factions?"

"Neither." the sensor officer answered. "According to their transponders... they belong to the R.I.F."

"Show me." Levitsky ordered. In response, Roland zoomed in on a section in the Asteroid belt between the deserters and the new fleet of unknown ships. He instantly saw a fleet of ten Covenant ships in total floating between the asteroids... and that three of them suddenly lit up like a christmas tree and started moving, joining the formation of Insurrectionist ships.

"Incoming transmission." Com reported again. "Same frequency."

"Patch through." Levitsky quietly said.

Again, Levitsky appeared before him, looking a lot more smug and confident than before.

"I'll admit." Levitsky started. "That's a lot more than I'm used of you."

"You asked what I can do." Quaritch smugly stated. "Well, _This_ is the best I can do. All of ONI, against all of the R.I.F."

"I'm sure." Levitsky said distractedly. He noted the name on what he assumed was the flagship. The Sentinel.

"I must go." Quaritch said, as he briefly turned to someone at his side. "Gotta be home for dinner, after all. But don't worry: I'll leave you a friend."

Quaritch stepped away, and in his place walked a man Levitsky had dedicated to memory the last two years.

Admiral Marcus Graves. The man wore the same outfit as before: Headset over his head, sleeveless vest over a faded uniform, cargo pants and a sidearm, likely some sort of revolver, in a holster clearly strapped to his thigh.

"Admiral Levitsky." Graves greeted him. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Graves." Levitsky said vehemently. "The greatest scum this side of the galaxy."

"I could say the same of you." Graves evenly retorted. "With how you waste men like paperclips, its a wonder the UNSC has any men left to defect at all. Not to mention how you gathered the majority of the remnants of the Fleet just to pursue someone as lowly as me."

"I at least don't make people change their uniform like they change socks, especially in the state the UNSC was in _before_ you called for a massive defection." Levitsky's voice rose.

Graves let out a sigh, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. "I see reasoning with you is pointless. Very well. All ships: engage."

Instantly, the Insurrectionist ships all performed slipspace jumps. Three of the massive Sentinel-class vessels exited in front of the Colony ships, preventing direct hits against them. The remaining ten ships, seven Sentinel-class and three Covenant vessels, exited Slipspace in attack formation, putting themselves between the large deserter fleet and the pursuing UNSC forces. And Levitsky could see, even at this distance, that they already had their MAC cannons charged and ready to fire. Aimed at his fleet.

The Battle for Scorpio VI had begun.

* * *

 _B312 Audiolog 23 (Labelled 'unexpected visitor')_

 _"So in this cave of yours, you two make these logs?"_

 _"Yes, Kat. We do."_

 _"Why? Not that I'm against it, but why?"_

 _Because we can? Because it breaks regulation?_

 _"In my book a reason not to do it."_

 _Come on. In case you failed to notice, our entire lives are basically dominated by ONI. They have our schedules tight from brushing our teeth to going to bed. This is the closest most of us will get to a break._

 _"Yeah. Admit you are at least a bit curious."_

 _"No."_

 _Yes you are._

 _"No"_

 _Yes?_

 _(Sigh.) Fine. I'll admit I'm curious what you'll do out here. But you'll have to move soon. Stay in one place too long, and the Commander or Mendez might notice._

 _"She has a point, Sev."_

 _"Sev?!"_

 _Oh boy, not this again..._

 _"What the hell kind of name is Sev?!"_

 _"My point, Kat. But the psycho doesn't listen to me."_

 _Do I really need to repeat the tale of why I'm called that?_

 _"No. Jason here told me a few weeks ago. But I still find it ridiculous."_

 _"See? I'm not alone."_

 _Oh, shush you two._

 _(Sound of bell ringing)_

 _"Shit. Now look what I got into following you two."_

 _You didn't have to follow us, you know. You could have ignored us, completed the exercise, and gone back to barracks._

 _"I'm still blaming you two. Even if I won't tell, I'll still tell Kurt you're to blame for us being late._

 _Spoilsport._

* * *

 **Well, that finishes up Chapter two. As Usual, review and give your opinion. Promise: Chapter 3 will be more action packed (Both the battle at Scorpio VI and the visitors to Sarcophagus giving... mixed reactions), and the next one (or the one after that, depending on how the chapter pans out) being the dead space crossover. Be patient, peasants**

 **Also, Operative X is finally introduced, something I've been looking forward to.**

 **Until next time**

 **Gharst Omenlumin**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back from the dead. Sorry it took so long, but I had a large number of things that delayed me. Writer's Block on the action scenes, waiting for translations of certain things, working thirty hours a week, distracted by video games, finally getting around to watching the Harry Potter movies (put it off because of other things, but I made myself watch them after a bet and they happened to be on TV), watching action movies to get over the writer's block, _finally_ finding someone who could do the translation for me... In short, I had been to busy to write. **

**But I digress. I'm back, and to compensate I made the chapter longer. Over 30.000 long, in fact. A fair compensation, I hope. On top of that, as promised, this chapter is packed with a lot of action, except the very beginning and the very end. In addition, I have also made a lot of progress with the Halo/Dead Space crossover, which will be the second next chapter.**

 **Now, the usual things.**

 **Note 1: The translations for some things are at the bottom. Do not try to see logic in them: I just wrote rubbish that I thought sounded alien to add to the mystique of things.**

 **Note 2: The stuff I _didn't_ translate is on purpose: They are an actual language, though it's known by very few people. I knew people who did, however, and as a nod to said people, I wrote those parts in the language for you. And to other readers, if you figure out what language it is and what's said, don't accidentally spoil it for others by translating it in a review, but send me a message if you want to know more (no extreme harm done if you do, the things said would only spoil it for _very_ attentive readers. But please: still don't do it).**

 **Note 3: This story has had quite a few references to the games Titanfall, Prototype and Deadspace (aside from the announced crossover). Who has spotted them all?**

 **Request: Review, dammit. These are my first chapters featuring solely action instead of focusing on story. also, This is my first time depicting large fleet battles. I want to know how well I did. So review, you damn bastards, and don't leave me in the dark.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything beyond OC's.**

 **Now, Read.**

* * *

Halo 4: Shelter of the Reclaimers

Chapter 3

 _ _B312 Audiolog 38__

 _ _So.__

 _" _So what?"__

 _ _When are you gonna tell your life story?__

 _" _Not in this lifetime, Sev. Imagine all the blackmail you could have against me."__

 _ _Is it__ that _ _good?__

 _" _Yes and no."__

 _ _Cryptic.__

 _ _"You know as much about it as everyone else. And that's all you'll get."__

 _ _If I don't hear it from you soon, Jason, I'll start guessing the most ludicrous suggestions about you, and spread them among the others. See which gets the most popular.__

 _" _You wouldn't. You're bluffing."__

 _ _Are you willing to risk it?__

 _" _Fine. We don't have time to go into detail, but long story short, I had to steal stuff in order to survive. Stuff the rich would love to get their hands on."__

 _ _Gold and jewelry?__

 _" _Power and blackmail files on local governors. Useless if told by a young war orphan, but very effective in the hands of crime lords."__

 _ _Or ONI.__

 _" _Don't even start on that. Besides, we gotta go."__

 _ _Yeah. Let's.__

* * *

 _Date: 31-01-2554_

 _Location: Graves' office, R.I.F headquarters, Angel City, Troy._

Graves sighed, as he watched the others read over what had happened at Aegis VII. Of course, Spyglass already knew what was in the report. As it was a datafile, and Spyglass' presence essentially was composed of data (even if it currently inhabited a robot body), he _was_ the report. But even he was concerned. Lights were flashing across the HUD hovering mere millimeters in front of Spyglass' visor, indicating he was looking at something. And if Graves had to guess, it was footage recovered from the Ishimura by Locke's team, as well as the six other survivors. Spyglass always was analytical, always considering every image there was of something before acting on it.

Mac and Preston were even more easily read. Mac he knew like an open book he'd owned since childhood: they could have no secrets for each other, even if they tried to. And Mac's concern and fear were painfully obvious, if one knew where to look. And Preston, like Spyglass, was analyzing everything, making up his own conclusions. The famed admiral that defeated one of the largest Covenant fleets in history was always one to try and find the best tactical solution in the situation. As one of Graves' top strategical and tactical analyzers and top advisor, he had to.

"We need to act now." Mac finally said, breaking the silence. "Or at least in the very near future. Despite the quarantine, there are too many inhabited systems in close range to Aegis VII. If over ten shuttles and hundreds of Escape pods launched, as the reports indicate, over two dozen worlds could be infected."

"Admiral MacAllen is correct." Spyglass added. "My simulations indicate that unless drastic measures are taken, the new strain will have spread to all thirty nine Sovereign Colonies worlds, as well as all twenty mining sectors, by the time of the Exodus. The gateway world of Sera could be endangered."

Sera was a keyworld they had to hold. The main reason the Sovereign Colonies had been able to hold their independence against the UNSC for as long as they had, aside from their substantial wealth, was simple: All of their worlds were located in a group of planetary clusters surrounded by Nebulas and gas clouds that for some reason distorted a ship's ability to enter or exit Slipspace through the nebulas (in hindsight, it wouldn't surprise him if it was because of some unknown Forerunner technology). The only safe way in or out without special star charts granted by Mahad or Lennox was through the heavily guarded world of Sera: A planet situated in the only visible hole in the star nebula, home of the Onyx Guard and aside from their capital of Serpentis Octanus the most heavily defended world in Sovereign Colonies space. Not even the Covenant had managed to get past the planet. if that planet fell, it wasn't a matter of _if_ the galaxy would fall, but _when_.

"I agree." Graves sighed, as he pulled up images from the report, and the extra crater Aegis VII had received following the drop of its payload and the crash of the Ishimura. "But at the moment we don't have the numbers to deal with it. And even if we take our estimated numbers after the Exodus into account, we'd still be outnumbered ten-to-one."

"Only if we alone deal with it." Cole countered. "Locke reported this to _Hood_ , not Osman and Levitsky. And no way is the old man going to keep this quiet. Knowing him, he'll likely find a way to not only pull the remaining SCAF forces and the Swords into this, but also Sang'Katarn, The Covenant remnants and even some of the other Insurrectionists."

Graves had to admit Cole had a point: Hood had a talent for rallying forces to his side. And now that Mahad was dead, it would be a lot easier for Hood to persuade his replacement to help deal with the 'Necromorphs', as they were dubbed in the report. Graves himself didn't know about the use of the other insurrectionists: He had spent decades eliminating his competitors, and his closest rival Insurrectionist movements, the U.R.F and the New Colonial Alliance, only had _half_ his numbers even if they consolidated their forces. And the rest of the movements were either too small to make a real difference, or already absorbed into Graves' own over the last two decades.

Sang'Katarn, on the other hand, would likely be the first to answer Hood's call. The Kaidon, Ooskoo Rotam, was a good ally of Hood, especially since both highly respected the now-deceased Noble Six. Not to mention, the Sang'Katarn Empire, as the Covenant Remnants mockingly called it, had the most advanced technology of all the planets in the former Covenant empire. If Hood had them on his side, things would even up considerably.

"Still, will that be enough?" Mac asked. "The Forerunners also had numbers and superior technology on their side, and they had to resort to self-extinction and galactic genocide."

"We'll find a way to survive." Cole persisted "With nearly half the array destroyed and the Ark heavily damaged, we have to."

"And what if we don't find one?" Mac continued to question.

The answer, surprisingly, came from Spyglass. The central computing intelligence of the R.I.F rarely volunteered information on his own these days.

"There is a way. Listening in on sporadic comments from the Monitors and searching UNSC-translated Forerunner data files, I have discovered the Device that opens the Portal over Voi, Earth is a Lightway engine."

"And this helps us how?" MacAllen asked, always having been skeptical of Spyglass' ideas. Graves couldn't blame him, though. The last time he'd listened to one of Spyglass' ideas, he'd ended up with pink paint in his hair and face, courtesy of a prank of Spyglass and Sarah trying to lighten his mood.

"Simple, Admiral." Spyglass continued unabated. "The Forerunners designed the Lightway as a Portal to other galaxies. They never finished configuring it in time for exactly that purpose, so they resorted to merely using it as a gateway to the Ark. But if we can finish the configurations the Forerunners failed to make..."

"We can use it for its intended purpose." Graves finished. "Have as many beings gather at Earth as possible, and if all else fails flee the galaxy."

"It is still incomplete, but we possess many of the missing components, The Bish Isotope being one of them."

"And of which a convoy was raided last week by Legion forces." MacAllen stated in a worried tone. "They must be onto it as well."

"Not necessarily." Spyglass contradicted. "During my analysis of those files, I ran across a mention of a second prototype being constructed on Halo Installation 03."

"One of the few rings undiscovered." Cole said in recognition. "You think the Legion found it before us?"

"Considering recent developments, and the fact the Legion has so far proven it has constant access to UNSC files and Forerunner data, the Chance is 97,259%"

"I'll take that as a yes." Graves sarcastically stated. "And if they found it, chances are high they found the Lightway engine as well. Mac, have Hammond and General Marder organize whatever parts and components we need to finish the Lightway in record time, and clear him to track down whatever components we are missing. Preston, estimate how long we'll have before the Necromorphs reach Earth, and find ways to slow down their advance. Spyglass, aid both of them in their simulations, and find ways to increase our odds."

All three nodded, and went along their assigned tasks. As soon as they had all left, he called Admiral Cranach to his office. The man, as usual, arrived in record time. Unless he was on patrol on the Colossus, he rarely left the building.

"Admiral." Cranach greeted, slightly bowing. Technically, both were of the same rank, so Cranach didn't actually need to bow. But with the fact Graves had singlehandedly given new life to the R.I.F, that Graves had more battles against the Covenant and fellow Insurrectionists registered than nearly anyone else, and that Cranach was into the entire movement partly because of how much he believed in Graves (to the point of near-zealotry), Cranach considered Graves his superior in every single way.

"How are the disguises coming along?" he asked his fellow admiral. Cranach smiled, as this was one of his favorite topics: a tactic he himself had conceived to ambush hostile naval forces, and which he was proud of implementing. Until he had learned how much time it took to prepare (A few weeks), even Cole had been impressed by it.

"The Red Eye, the Papa Dragon, the Spartan Refuge and the God of Thunder are entirely covered, and the Sentinel, the Cyclops, the Devil's Grin will be covered in less than two weeks. The Tartarus, the Apocalypse and the Titanfall are only halfway done, but will be completed long before the Exodus will take place."

"They all have sufficient Charges?" Graves asked. It wouldn't do to have his entire fleet stuck in Asteroids when the battle took place.

"Rest assured: The Charges will fragment the covering enough to allow the fleet to escape, and the Sang'Katarn-grade shields we bought will not decrease more than ten percent by the explosions."

"And ten percent is easily recharged in less than ten seconds, thanks to the Bish Isotope." Graves said with a sigh of relief. He made a note to thank Bish for his miracle fuel. The damn Isotope, even when refined, was useless on anything except heavy reactors designed to power entire continents for decades. But on said reactors, they both cooled them down and prevented overheating even in the middle of an explosion, and fueled said reactor and kept her going. All while the same amount of the usual fuel for starship reactors would only power a single frigate for a little over a year.

Graves had immediately exploited it by installing four massive reactors on the Sentinel-class vessels, and to have both them and the twelve MAC-cannons on the ship fueled and lined with the Bish Isotope, ensuring each MAC could fire five shots before the Magnetic coils briefly overheating, and that they cooled down in under half a minute.

"And there's even better news." Cranach cheerily continued. "The salvage crews have managed to recover three Covenant Ships."

"What?" Graves asked, as he stood up. They had been able to buy (and subsequently reverse-engineer) several technological marvels from Sang'Katarn, including but not limited to new shield generators and Slipspace drives. But if they got their hands on entire warships...

"The fleet you destroyed at Scorpio VI wasn't as decimated as assumed." Cranach answered, showing the ships and the asteroid belt on his datapad. "Like the Covenant did with us, the Asteroids merely breached enough decks to break her hull integrity and open her up to Vacuum. Even the Assault Carrier you destroyed is salvageable."

"What ships are currently operational?" Graves immediately asked. He already counted thirty ways he could exploit this new development at the Exodus, not to mention the new threat from Aegis VII.

"At the moment, the Battlecruisers and one of the destroyers." Cranach answered. "Do you want me to have the others towed to the Shipyards at Endeavor?"

"No." Graves answered. "Not immediately, at least. Scour the Graveyard over Reach for Covenant vessels of similar size, and have them towed to Scorpio VI before towing the active ones back to Endeavor. Ensure the ships are properly disguised among the Asteroid belt, and have them lie in wait for the Exodus."

Cranach nodded, logging the orders. "Anything else?"

"No. Thanks, Cranach."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Forerunner City, Forerunner Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'_

Sam sighed in relief, as he finally finished with sorting through all the supplies and putting it away on the right sections. 4 tents, a week's worth of food for them all (though when they'd packed, for their small number it likely would have seemed enough for a month), medical supplies, plenty of spare parts for the Warthogs and larger weapons, cooking supplies...

And fortunately, a _very_ healthy supply of grenades, ammo and weapons. He'd seen a sample of two of every weapon the UNSC had ever built, also counting the weapons Sergeant Johnson and the Chief carried. A rocket launcher, grenade launcher, a sniper rifle, a DMR, a pair of pistols and SMG's. And a new minigun. It was the same model as Sam carried with him everywhere these days: Gatling-gun barrels, two metal plates attached to the sides as cover, and a large ammo box attached to it. His old one still worked fine, so he didn't actually need it. But he could always demolish it for spare parts of set it up somewhere to guard the city's perimeter. With the Didact and his Prometheans still out there, they would need it.

A loud rumbling from the sky interrupted his thoughts, and he stopped admiring his good work and walked outside.

And stared up in amazement. A Strident-Class frigate was dueling with two SDV-class Covenant Corvettes, and the latter two were already seriously damaged, to the point Sam was surprised they were still flying at all. One of the Corvettes had forced a dock with the frigate, likely to drop off boarding parties, while the other was fleeing, with the frigate in close pursuit despite the uninvited guest tagging alongside her.

The others had already formed a crowd, watching from the central square of the city as they were all mesmerized by the sight. And Sam found he agreed with them. A strident-class frigate was no joke, but under normal circumstances it would be outgunned by the two Corvettes. It was nice to see the UNSC win on its own without a numerical advantage for once.

The Frigate sent a MAC round flying towards the fleeing corvette, hitting the who in the engine block. The round must have hit the reactor, for the very next moment the ship violently exploded, atomizing the rear section of the ship and melting the fore parts, the blast sending them to crash in a field a few kilometers outside of the town.

The Frigate's defensive close-in weapons systems immediately opened fire on the remaining corvette, blasting apart her engines as well. The ship's then both sped over the city, the skyscrapers now blocking the view. Sam and the others hurried to catch a better view on the city's edges.

As they finally arrived after a short sprint, Sam saw nothing major had occurred in his absence. The frigate had disabled the Corvette's engine systems, and was now targeting the ship's means of fighting back and preventing her from disengaging. At first, Sam couldn't figure out why. Didn't the frigate want to be disengaged from its boarding party?

"It's on a collision course with the Cathedral." The Arbiter noted. "A fine tactic. Whoever flies that vessel knows what he's doing."

"I'm sorry, but how is colliding with a Forerunner structure a fine tactic?" One of he threes asked. Ash, if Sam remembered their names correctly.

"Simple." The Arbiter elaborated. "All it takes to evade is a simple full-burst firing of her maneuvering thrusters... and if timed right, that will put the corvette on the collision course instead."

Sam had to admit, that was a smart tactic. Like brushing off a fly by scraping your shoulder against a doorpost. It would certainly do the job.

The Corvette and her crew seemed to realize this as well, as she was now doing everything she could to separate. She fired her remaining cannons at the frigate, attempting to force her to prematurely disengage or alter course. But it was no good. The Frigate's captain slowly adjusted course so that she would miss the Cathedral by centimeters, and that the Corvette would ram it head on. And at the speed they were going, the impact would be lethal to anyone on that Corvette, no matter the species. If the force of being thrown into the walls or ceiling wouldn't do it, the ship being crushed, compressed and broken apart by pressure would.

The Frigate succeeded. She sped past the cathedral, her fore section scraping the walls. The rear section did so too, and it seemed the gambit was paying off. No way the Corvette could evade now. Some of the others started to cheer their future rescuers.

And then things went south. A second before hitting the cathedral, the Corvette sent a last shot at the Frigate with her Pulse Laser Cannons, hitting her port side near the engines. Immediately; the frigate started to list, fire breaking out in the aft section. It tried to ascend, but only succeeded in leveling out, passing over the distant mountain range and descending from there. After a few seconds, a rumble echoed throughout the surrounding area, signifying the landing.

"Impact area is approximately 200 kilometers south and 500 kilometers west of us." Kalmiya said from Halsey's datapad.

"That puts her pretty close to the wreck of the Dawn." Johnson noted.

That meant all they needed to do was teleport back to the Dawn's wreckage, and they would be at walking distance from their potential rescuers.

"Spark, have everyone gather up, and then teleport us to the Wreckage of the Dawn." John said over the com. "We're almost there."

"Yes, Reclaimer." Spark said, before herding everyone together with some sort of repulsive Energy Shield he generated. Soon enough, John rounded a corner of the building and joined them, and Kelly emerged bare seconds later around the same corner.

"That's everyone." Fred said. "Spark, do the honors."

Immediately, the yellow light Sam had experienced before circled them, and Sam started to feel dizzy again with a feeling he might throw up. But as he forced himself to keep looking, he saw their environment change from the outskirts of their city to the interior of an UNSC ship. The Observation Deck of one, to be precise.

Sam chuckled at the state of the ship he was in. While the interior was largely intact, everyone could see they couldn't get it to fly again. At least not without dragging the wreckage to a dry dock like the one at Aszod, Reach. The ship was split into at least four pieces, theirs being the rearmost one. The front three prongs that surrounded the area a MAC round would go through when fired had split apart from both each other and the rear section. And each piece lay at least a hundred meters apart from the others.

"Let me guess: you had been flying." He quipped at John.

"Technically, Cortana was." John responded. "Speaking of her..."

Halsey understood, and immediately pulled out the two AI chips from her datapad, and held both out to John and Kelly. Both took their respective chips and slotted them into the back of their helmets.

And when Sam briefly looked away, he finally saw why most of the others had been quiet thus far. The wreckage of the Strident Frigate lay not a hundred meters in front of them, tilted slightly at an angle due to the fact she'd crossed over a cliff edge near her front. It wasn't a big cliff, barely two dozen meters. But it kept the ship tilted.

"Kalmiya, status of the ship?" Kelly asked.

"Her engines and Slipspace drive are offline but salvageable." Kalmiya immediately responded. "Weapons and comms are online, but they work with encryption I haven't encountered before. It'll take a few minutes to crack."

"What about survivors?" Linda asked, as she crouched and took a better look with the scope of her Sniper Rifle.

"I'm detecting plenty of chatter, so most of the crew have survived. But without the encryption key, it sounds like gibberish. Why?"

"Because they're about to have company." Linda said, as she held the scope out for others to take a look with. Sam himself settled for the binoculars built into his visor, as the Arbiter took the scope.

Shit. Promethean Knights briefly teleported onto the new ship's hull, before disappearing again, likely towards the inside of the ship. Their orange color left no doubt they were aligned with the Didact.

"Johnson, Spark: Stay here with Mendez, Halsey and our own Knights. This will be our fallback point should everything go FUBAR." The Master Chief ordered. Johnson pouted at being left on guard duty, but nodded.

"Good. Kalmiya, show us a schematic of her hull, and highlight important areas." Immediately, a light emerged from the side of Kelly's helmet, showing the ship. It was split into three by two arbitrary lines, with the Bridge, AI core and crew quarters at the forward section, coms and armory in the middle, and the vehicle and cargo bay, as well as the engines, in the aft section.

"We split into three groups." John ordered almost immediately. "Fred, take Linda, Tom and Lucy to secure the bow. Saber Team, you and the Arbiter secure the middle. Sam, Kelly: we take the aft. If you encounter Brutes or Prometheans: shoot on sight. Anything else you try to question first before shooting it. Got it?" Everyone nodded.

"Spark: teleport us to the top of the hull at our respective sections."

The Monitor immediately complied, and they each had three respective yellow rings of light. The next thing Sam knew, he was on the deck of the Strident-class Frigate, between an intact and flaming armor plate, with John and Kelly in front of him. In the distance, two hundred meters or so ahead, he could see the Arbiter's team.

"How do we get in?" Kelly asked, as she looked around, her shotgun in hand and Plasma Rifles on her thigh armor plates. Sam rolled his eyes, punched the hull beneath his feet to make an opening, and pulled. Immediately, it opened up, and they could see a hallway beneath an armor plate half a meter thick.

"Open sesame." Sam quipped, as he jumped inside, Minigun in hand. The others followed him in, and they all landed with weapons at the ready.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, R.I.F flagship Sentinel, Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

Graves sighed. Allison had said this would happen, and he had expected it himself. But this large a fleet, not to mention Infinity herself? He had to admit, Levitsky had managed to pull a lot of strings.

The Slipspace portal opened again, and he was to the side and in front of Infinity, all weapons charged, primed and ready to fire. The Starboard and Port fins adjusted to their upright position in seconds, opening up the window for the five MAC-cannons along both sides to fire. Right beside him, the Red-Eye did likewise, mirroring his position approximate to Infinity's bow.

And they had the ship almost ready in a crossfire of MAC-cannons and Onager cannons. And Infinity, while very powerful and possessing her own impressive arsenal of MAC and Onagers, didn't have them in numbers even close to the Sentinel-class vessels. Even one outclassed her, and a prolonged battle against even one would be suicide.

To be in the crossfire of two would be devastating.

Spyglass lit Red Eye's signature on the tactical board, signaling she was ready. He returned the signal.

"Ready, Mac?" He asked challengingly over their com.

"Always." Mac evenly returned.

Then, as one, they opened fire with their MAC-cannons as they slowly sped past the Infinity. CIWS turrets opened up, ready to take down any Archer missiles that headed for them. His own missiles launched, targeting key sections of Infinity he suspected were either critical or vulnerable. Anything to get her out of the fight quickly. Onager cannons targeted key locations like shield generators and hangars, from which her four Strident frigates were still supposed to launch. MAC-cannons tore through armor plating and Decks, meeting little true resistance on their way as they changed Infinity into a large metal chunk of swiss cheese.

And Mac mirroring his actions with the Red Eye at Infinity's other side.

Originally, no one thought this kind of action was possible with a MAC-cannon. Usually, it took all power a battle could muster to power even a single shot from her Magnetic accelerators. And even then, the power was often drained so heavily the coils needed to cool down for minutes, and the reactor core would need a recharge for possibly even longer. No to mention, most MAC cannons were so large (the smallest a little under two hundred meters long) only one or two could usually be fitted on a vessel, with three already being a stretch.

But the Sentinel-class vessel was no ordinary warship. It was five Kilometers long, and two wide. It had reactors designed to power continents on their own for decades, and a special fuel and coolant that allowed it to last three times as long. Said coolant also allowed the Coils to be cool enough to fire not a second, not a third, but a fifth shot before becoming too hot to immediately operate. As such, the constant firing of the MAC-cannons alongside Infinity's flanks came to a complete shock to both its crew and Admiral Levitsky.

The Infinity didn't go down without a fight. On the contrary: Despite being caught off-guard by how suddenly the two Sentinel-class ships had jumped to her flanks, she'd opened fire with her own guns as soon as Graves and MacAllen opened fire. Not to mention her own shields seemed to be on par with those of the Sentinel and the Red-Eye.

But to put it simply, she lacked the punch to make it more than a token response. The Infinity's Onager Cannons were outnumbered by Graves' own on his side, and while Del Rio had an impressive amount of smaller gun-turrets on his ship, they weren't meant to penetrate the shields of the Sentinel. Not to mention, the fact Graves had five MAC-cannons that could tear through Infinity's shields firing as well, and Del Rio's cannons out of position to do likewise, meant that Infinity was, to use Barker's vulgar language, getting her ass whooped.

Graves' side alone, with five MAC-cannons capable of firing five rounds each before this was over, tore through the shields quickly enough, after only three rounds. After that, the remaining twenty-two on Graves' side, not to mention the rounds MacAllen was firing from the Red-Eye, tore through Infinity.

Graves noted, to his slight chagrin, that Del Rio's crew was actually doing a competent job of fighting back, his Onagers all concentrating on single points to penetrate the shields and then the armor.

"Spyglass, reinforce shields near engines and the SuperMAC." he ordered. Spyglass complied, diverting power from the engines (at their current momentum they wouldn't really need to go full-throttle anyway) to the shields, to reinforce the sections Del Rio was targeting.

They slowly drifted past, the UNSC flagship drifting by as well, many hull-breaches being visible across her starboard side. Her entire side was gutted with holes and fires, which shortly were extinguished as Del Rio cut the oxygen supply to those sections. She also slightly listed, as a round had apparently knocked out Infinity's stabilizers. As they finally passed her entirely, and the ship's outer cameras had a view of her rear, he also saw that her engines were now flickering.

"Spyglass, status on Infinity's integrity." Graves asked.

"Numerous Hull breaches on multiple decks, including Frigate Storage, Engineering and Starboard gunnery." Spyglass began listing. "I've detected explosive decompressions on the majority of her lower aft decks. Her primary Engine's receiving insufficient power for proper thrust due to a damaged reactor, and the secondary ones aren't sufficient to allow her to maneuver properly during this battle. Her weapon batteries are online, but that's only because Levitsky is diverting all power he can spare to keep them online. Shields and sensors are compromised but partially functional. Total integrity estimated at 47,9%"

 _So she'd received a beating, but she was still operational. A lot more sluggish, and a bit bruised, but not out of the count. Shame._ "And the status of the Red-Eye and the Sentinel?"

"Shields at 57% and 49% respectively. Aside from that, all systems nominal, and no hull breaches detected."

"Good." Graves said, as he turned back to the main tactical display. The Papa Dragon, the God of Thunder, and the Titanfall were providing close cover for the civilian vessels, the colony ships and the deserter fleet. The Tartarus, the Apocalypse, the Devil's Grin, the Spartan Refuge and the Cyclops, along with the three salvaged and repaired Covenant vessels, were engaging the main fleet of the UNSC, holding position between the UNSC Fleet and the deserters. The Red-Eye and the Sentinel, due to their brief crossfire past Infinity, were now directly behind the UNSC Fleet, as Infinity had still been behind the rest of her fleet.

He dismissed the cruisers, frigates and destroyers for a moment. Alone, they couldn't represent a true threat to his ships, and with the beating they just gave Infinity, it would be a while before things got coordinated enough again for them to band together and form a threat.

The Phoenix-class support vessel, the Epoch-class Assault Carrier, and the Punic-class Supercarrier, however, were valid threats on their own. Both because they packed quite a punch, even if they had trouble taking on one of Graves' ships on their own. But they were threats for another reason, as well.

They all carried a hell-lot of Fighters and Bombers. And any ship, no matter the formidability of her Close-In Weapons Systems, could be taken down by enough fighters.

The Phoenix-class Vessel, Everlasting Spirit, was huddling together with some of the destroyers, and he couldn't get to it without taking quite a beating himself. The Punic-class Supercarrier, The Resurrector, was similarly out of reach, getting closer to Infinity and covering her as she deployed the Frigates that were docked inside her.

But the Epoch-class Assault Carrier, the Trump Card, was all alone, formerly depending on Infinity for escort. But with her out of commission...

He hit their fleet-wide com. "All ships in range, concentrate fire on the Trump Card. Bring her down."

All ships immediately complied, the majority turning to aim their SuperMAC on her, while the Tartarus and Cyclops turned the other way, in order to turn their broadsides of MAC's on her. The Covenant vessels, however, presented their Ventral sides to her, planning to use their Plasma Projectors instead.

Graves shuddered, despite the fact he knew it needed to happen. But it was still a harrowing sight to see Covenant Energy Projectors, the same weapons used to glass planets, turned on UNSC ships.

The Destroyers left the side of the Everlasting Spirt, speeding to the rescue of their Big Brother. But it was too late.

The Destroyer opened fire with her Energy Projector. It pierced her aft section, crippling her engines and rendering her immobile. The other ships all opened fire after that, two more Energy Projectors disabling her weapons and communications systems, while the MAC-cannons tore through her superstructure. The Trump card suffered significant damage, and multiple of the Super-MAC rounds not only tore the ship apart, but actually punched through her and back out the other side.

But it was the two broadsides from the Tartarus and the Cyclops that did it. Ten MAC rounds on an unshielded hull already damaged by Energy Projectors and a handful of SuperMAC rounds was ruthless on her hull. As they ripped into her, multiple very large explosions ripped across the majority of her hull, until she was covered entirely by the flashes.

By the time they cleared, the Trump Card was in three very large pieces, all gutted like a fish.

"Like the fourth of July." MacAllen noted drily, as they all stopped firing, and Graves selected a new target.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

The Arbiter jumped down, his newly modified Energy Sword ablaze. Instead of the usual design, it was more streamlined, as well as a bit longer and a different hilt. Not to mention as orange as fire. He believed it suited him well. He covered the other three Spartans as they jumped down through the maintenance hatch he had found. The last one, Mark, closed it behind them.

"Spartan?" He spoke into his com, hoping he could reach the Master Chief.

"I read you, Arbiter." The Spartan said in return. "Head for the com station and try to find the encryption key. It'll allow us to patch into the coms of any survivors we encounter. Then you search the ship. If you spot UNSC survivors, help them. If you spot knights or Brutes-"

"Shoot first, ask questions later. You told us." He finished.

"Just checking. Cortana wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I didn't remind you."

Thel let out a chuckle, before signing off. He turned to his three companions. "I assume you heard all that." He said. All three nodded, though not looking him in he eye. He couldn't blame them. After all, last they'd heard before he came along was that they were at war with his species. And suddenly, they were forced to hold their fire and actually check which species they shot at. Still, they had a job to do, and he would see to it that it got done.

"Then let's head out." He said, as he put his sword away and got out his Carbine. He checked the ship's schematics, as a small blueprint of the deck was painted on a nearby wall in case of emergencies.

Good. Only two dozen meters way, and it would be the door on his left. Not too hard to remember. He set out to it.

Just as he arrived and was about to open the door, his Motion sensor went haywire, showing multiple friendlies and hostiles that weren't there. And that could mean only one thing. He barrel-rolled aside...

And missed being hit in the head by a Needle Rifle by an inch. Saber Team took cover in alcoves, trying to see where it came from, while Thel turned around.

He could see one silhouette mostly covered by the shadow of the downed lighting system. While definitely still one, she was taller than most humans and wore eccentric armor. She held a Needle Rifle in her hands, identifying her as the shooter.

"Gnoreck Fi De Harnardan. **(1)** " The figure said in the ancient language of Sang'Katarn. "Alaghan. **(2)** " With that she resumed fire. Thel opened fire as well, aiming to subdue her.

And his instinct immediately made him roll aside again, as he saw an Energy Sword materialize in front of him, swinging towards where his head used to be.

"Saber, Deal with the human." He ordered, as he got a good look at the wielder of the sword: a Sangheili wearing heavily modified Field-Marshal armor, with a mouth mask making it vacuum tight, and bright blue visors covering his eyes. "This one's mine."

Thel brandished his own sword, and swung towards the other warrior, with Saber and the other human firing around them. The Field-Marshal blocked Thel's blow, and retorted by sweeping with the Blade at Thel's feet. Thel jumped over, and attempted to kick the other warrior. The Field-Marshal caught him, and threw him towards the wall to his right. Thel hit it with a grunt, and slid down. Thel immediately raised his blade, blocking the blow the Field-Marshal immediately delivered.

Thel gave a kick to create some space, and jumped to his feet. He had to admit, the other warrior was very good. Likely trained on Sang'Katarn, considering the language his human companion spoke.

He made an uppercut, making the warrior stumble backwards into a wall. Thel immediately deactivated his Energy Sword and gave a boxer's barrage of strikes against the warrior's chest and face, wearing him down. After a few moments, the warrior regained his composition, caught Thel's fists, and butted his head against Thel's, hard.

Thel immediately stumbled backwards, stunned. The Warrior took the moment to catch his own breath, before both opponents raised their swords again. Thel detected something of a smile from the other, as the Field-Marshal activated a second Energy Sword, which on closer inspection were both Katarn Energy Swords. The best the Covenant could ever manufacture.

"Impressive." Thel complimented. "But fancy swords won't save you."

The warrior immediately sprung forwards, as Thel stood his ground. Discreetly, he grabbed his second Energy Sword with his free hand, and as the warrior was about to land on him, activated it and blocked both of his opponent's attacks with one blade, and swung with the other at the Field-Marshal's head. The other immediately ducked, and gave an Elbow into Thel's stomach, making him bowl over. The other immediately gave a knee to Thel's stomach, adding to the pain and making him fall.

As he glanced the other way to how Saber was doing, he knew he was on his own. While they outnumbered his opponent's companion, she had them pinned down, one of Saber already wounded and pinned under debris, a second knocked unconscious, and the third was losing a grappling match against her. They couldn't help him.

As the Field-Marshal held his right blade at Thel's neck, ready for the death blow, Thel kicked the other's feet from under him, making him fall. Thel immediately tried to jump on top of him and hold his own blade to the warrior's throat, but the Field-Marshal rolled with it, ending up out of range for Thel to attack him.

The warrior, as Thel got up, suddenly straightened from his combat stance, tilted his head briefly, before deactivating his Energy Swords. Before Thel could wonder why, the Field-Marshal raised his hand towards his companion, and yelled "STOP!"

The human female immediately stopped, and got off of her opponent. She stared at her companion, but he merely activated all lights in the corridor... revealing her to be a Spartan. Then, pressing a button on the side of his helmet, he revealed his face.

And Thel was shocked. It was a lot more scarred than last time he saw it, and aside from the right eye that was slashed across, he also saw the two left mandibles were burned off. But aside from the many scars across the face, the identity was unmistakable for one who knew how to recognize Sangheili faces.

"Fol Katarn?" Thel asked, astonished.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, UNSC Phoenix-class support vessel 'Everlasting Spirit', Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

Captain Vivian Normandy scowled, as the battle proceeded to draw out. The unknown ships of the R.I.F were tough, even without Covenant Energy shields. She imagined they would be able to receive the MAC broadsides they dealt out, and still be able to take down an asteroid twice their size by simply ramming it. Ideal for them. Not so much for their opponents.

Her and MacCastle, in this case.

To make matters worse, the R.I.F had a new tag-team-like way of working. Every time one of the larger vessels engaging the UNSC pursuit fleet (she'd be damned if she called it 'Battlegroup Ragnarok' just on Levitsky's say-so) lost its shields and took not-so-minor damage, one of those guarding the civilian colony ships jumped in and took the weight, while the damaged one jumped back to guard the civilians and effect emergency repairs, sometimes even with aid from said colony ship. Effectively a switching of places between vessels.

She had to admit, despite her hesitance to like them, she was impressed. In this manner of fighting, there was always a fresh ally ready to take some of the pressure, while the beaten ones would have a chance to recover. Effective, smoothly executed, and it ensured the R.I.F fleet was always in a better condition than the UNSC fleet.

Levitsky, of course, had almost immediately caught on at the first attempt, and had tried to get the 4 Strident frigates to continue the attack on the deserters. They never made it, as the three Covenant vessels Graves had commandeered immediately moved to intercpt them. And the three ships outclassed the four frigates.

But that didn't mean one wouldn't go down. Three of the Frigates focused fire on Destroyer, and the three MAC rounds all pierced the shields, passing through the destroyer's superstructure and one separating one of the two lower rear fins. Said round also hit the engine compartment, greatly damaging the stern. Almost a minute afterwards, escape pods shot from the destroyer to the other two Covenant warships, and the destroyer self-destructed.

Normandy looked at the tactical display again, her scowl evident as always. The entire battlegroup was in a crossfire between two of the odd insurrectionist ships and the rest of the R.I.F fleet. The Trump Card and one of the Halberd-class destroyers were destroyed, and the Resurrector was smoking near her stern, a MAC round still lodged in the side of her hull.

"I hate these things." she muttered, as she tried to drag something across the display to show the ship's status, only to fail _again_.

 _God, she hated computers._

"You should enjoy this kind of thing." Aurora, the ship's AI, said over her personal headset. "At least this display has colors and shapes. Just remember: Red means bad."

"Fuck you." Normandy said in turn. Then, admitting defeat to her rival on the ship, she turned to said AI's data pedestal. "Bring up the ship's status, _please_."

Aurora huffed, but complied and changed the display from the tactical display to the ship's status. While the Everlasting Spirit was yet to be targeted by a MAC barrage and thus largely intact, her fighter complement was taking a beating taking down one of the two massive ships having them all in a crossfire.

She thought it over. Levitsky was a fool to have them all follow a group of deserters like this. Sure, it would not do to let them go unpunished, and that this would be the largest concentration of insurrectionists they could get at. But she saw things a different way. These people had left behind their uniform. With such a little amount of arms against the UNSC fleet, they were little more effective than civilians. Not to mention that they actually did have points. ONI was to be the doom of the UNSC, and with Levitsky's zealous pursuit of the possible traitors, it was very wise to abandon the UNSC if they had no true loyalty to it.

But unlike them, she didn't desert. Despite the fact she sympathized with them and felt for them. But if all the good people deserted, then how would any good remain in the UNSC at all? If there were no good people like her, MacCastle and little Kathleen, then what was the use of the UNSC at all? No, she needed to stay, despite her intense desire to join them.

She turned to Kathleen. "Executive officer Cutter, get me a targeting solution on the Sentinel. Inform MacCastle to take the ship on her Port." although technically Jack MacCastle commanded a larger ship than her own and was older than her, but both agreed that with his... _peculiar_ _voices_ , it was wiser that she decided things if the two captains were on their own. And with Levitsky busy managing the rest of the fleet, the two had some breathing room.

"Done." Cutter awkwardly said. Normandy couldn't blame her. After all, she had joined the ship's crew the same day ONI's book closet was toppled, and Normandy knew of herself she wasn't one of the easiest people to deal with. Stoic and cold during battle, and either avoiding people altogether or socially awkward when she didn't (the recent happenstance of naming Kathleen's full rank instead of the acronym or just her surname being a good example), she was very hard to talk to. But still, for this battle, things needed to get done. And the best way to do so was by talking and giving orders.

"Good." she absentmindedly responded. "Now, lets show the Sentinel how we give people a smack."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

Fred jumped into the hull breach they'd detected before, covering the others as they jumped after him.

"Do you copy, Chief? Fred asked, after making sure the area was secure.

"I copy, Blue 4." John responded, using Fred's Team designation he had always used when joining Blue Team on an op. "Primary objective is to find and secure the Captain. Ask him what happened, and help him regain control of the ship. Secondary objective: clear the ship of hostiles and rescue any survivors you find. And while not an order, I advice securing the armory if you come across it."

"Copy, Blue Lead. Blue four out." Fred signed off. He turned to Linda. "You had the best look at the ship. How far are we from the bridge?"

"A few dozen meters, but given standard procedure in case of a hull breach, there's an awful lot of locked doors between here and there."

"Sam's explosives would have come in handy." Tom quipped.

"Cut the chatter." Fred ordered. "The Captain's alive, so we need to find him. Let's go."

And so they moved on, Fred and Lucy staying close to one wall while Tom and Linda walked alongside another, both sides covering the other as they advanced. They made it barely a dozen meters, before a nearby data pedestal lit up.

The man depicted had civilian clothing: A white hoodie with the hood drawn over his head, with the shadow of it covering his upper face, and a black leather jacket worn over it. He wore denim trousers, very old shoes of an obscure sports brand Fred hadn't bothered remembering the name off, and he had a very... _ominous_ air about himself.

A very interesting avatar choice for the ship's AI.

"You aren't members of the original crew." It stated immediately. "State your name, rank and objective before I will inform the Captain you're hostiles."

Fred immediately lowered his DMR, and held up his hand in a non-threatening manner.

"Easy. I'm Lieutenant Frederic-104. I don't mean any harm."

The AI tilted its head upwards a bit. "Frederic-104. A member of Blue Team by any chance?"

Fred nodded. The AI paused for a moment, before smiling, and lifting his hood slightly. Not enough that it came off, but enough that the rest of his face immediately became visible, showing a man in his thirties with black hair and bright and glowing red eyes with black pupils.

"In that case: welcome back from the land of the dead, Lieutenant. Sorry about the mess, but we've had a few problems with pirates."

"What happened?" Linda asked.

"The Hunter's Pride's primary objective was to secure UNSC borders against pirate activity," the AI immediately answered "and keep an eye out for any signal that could come from the Forward Unto Dawn. At 13-01-2556, ONI ordered us to pick up their 'Operative X' from a recently discovered shield world, who had been missing for precisely a year.

"We picked her up at the coordinates, but a small fleet of four Corvettes emerged from the Shield World as well, in pursuit of the ONI agent. We destroyed two of them, before a third boarded us, filling our ship with Brute Pirates. We heavily damaged the remaining two ships before we were suddenly pulled into an unknown Slipspace anomaly, dropping us into another Shield World. We destroyed one of the ships, which was trying to flee, before aiming our guns at the last vessel docked to our port stern. We managed to dislodge it by ramming it into a nearby tower, but its final shot crippled our engines, making us crash here. Ship's original AI overloaded and self-terminated upon impact, and I stepped in to fill the Void."

"You're not he ship's original AI?" Fred asked confused.

"Negative. I am Zeus, UNSC AI VOD7249-1, technical support to fire team Heracles. Fire team Heracles was being ferried by us from a Covenant Colony back to UNSC space, their original mission a failure."

Fed shrugged. "I won't argue. Where's the ship's captain?"

"Bridge." Zeus immediately said. "I'll open any doors in your way."

Fred nodded, and immediately saw a door to their right open. He and the others immediately ran through the doorway, with it closing behind them. The group ran, with Zeus opening and closing doors for them.

After a minute of sprinting they finally arrived. And as the door opened, they were welcomed by the sight of a human captain shooting a Brute in the face as it knelt, making it topple and land among the other brutes strewn around the Bridges, and the officers and Marines that held the bridge briefly raising their rifles on them.

The Captain, however, immediately ordered the soldiers to lower them upon laying eyes on the Spartans. "At ease, people. These are our own."

Fred and the others immediately saluted. "Ma'am, Blue Team reporting for duty."

The woman returned the salute. "At ease, Spartans. I don't stand as heavily on formality at the moment." Fred and the others relaxed their stance afterwards.

"How did you survive, Spartans?" Keyes asked as Zeus closed the door behind them. "Last I heard, you all died at Onyx."

"A long story, Ma'am. But lets just say the Forerunners had many tricks up their sleeves." Fred summarized. "Zeus informed us on how you crashed, but what's going on right now?"

Zeus brought an image of the ship's schematics up on the main screen. Keyes pointed at various sections, explaining as she went. "The Brutes boarded in the aft sections, completely occupying the Hangar and Cargo bays. The fore is secured in its entirety, and only a handful of Brute Stalkers try to invade it again every few minutes. Mid is contested territory, and I've send Fireteam Heracles to secure it."

"They're competent?" Linda asked.

"They're reliable. You even know one of its members. Fol Katarn."

That _did_ allow Fred to relax. While the stay had been brief, he had proven his trustworthiness by saving Kelly from two Fuel Rod blasts by jumping in the way, at risk of his own life. And given he'd survived the first Halo, and aided at the Ark according to John, he was more than capable on his own. If he had backup, Fred was sure he would reclaim the mid section.

"And what of this... Operative X?" Fred asked.

Keyes quieted, and Zeus picked up where she left off, displaying an image of a woman with a robotic right arm prosthetic. She was entirely covered from head to toe in an unique form of Reach Armories Spartan armor, making her seem like some sort of robot. "ONI's newest go-to person now that Blue Team's 'unavailable'. Cyborg agent, went missing about a year ago, but she managed to reestablish contact. We were sent to pick her up, when the pirates attacked us."

"They followed her off of the planet she was stuck on." Keyes finished "And shortly after she got on board, we suffered a failure in our sensors. Likely sabotage from on board."

"She's a suspect?" Tom asked, eyeing the woman in the image.

"We can't rule her out, and we have no other suspects." Keyes simply answered. "Inform your team members to find her, and apprehend her if possible."

Fred nodded, having one final question. "And if she can't be apprehended?"

Keyes turned to look Fred in the eye. "Then they kill her. By any means necessary."

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, Punic-class Supercarrier 'Freedom Fighter', Battle Group 'Redemption', En-route to Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

Hood glared at Osman, as they stood on the bridge. Levitsky had gone too far this time. He had been warned by other members of the council that Levitsky would be too Zealous in his hunt and prosecution of possible insurrectionists. But taking the entire Third and Fourth fleets, leaving the Inner Colonies exposed? And going behind both his and Osman's back to do so, using his position as overseer of the Intelligence division to make the right people turn a blind eye?

That was many steps too far. Even Osman had been in the dark. Since the events exactly two years ago, when ONI's database and thus its crimes had been exposed to the public, he had taken every claim made by anyone ONI above the rank of sergeant with a large grain of salt. But Osman had been with him when it happened, and her reaction was too sincere to be false. Even if she had known Levitsky would want to do something like this, she had never thought he would actually go through with it, much less in such force.

But that was, in turn, another failure of ONI. True, with the recent successes against Militia bases belonging to the United Rebel Front and the New Colonial Alliance, and the reveal of former Spartan-IV candidate Ilsa Zane being both a high figure in the latter movement and that she had ties to a band of Brute Pirates, the organization had done a lot to restore her own competence when it came to external threats. But the failure to stop Levitsky here was evidence of a severe lack of competence at dealing with _Internal_ threats.

Which brought him back to the argument going on between them right now.

"Face it, Admiral." Osman repeated her main argument again. "Levitsky had been planning this for months. Perhaps even since he was appointed as ONI Overseer. He's been using this position to keep this hidden from both of us. The position of Overseer is too easily abused. It must be suspended."

"I have heard your argument _many_ times." Hood reminded her pointedly. "And the answer remains the same: Until the council congregates again, the position remains in place. You want him gone? We've heard that argument ever since the position was given to Levitsky. And as per regulations and protocol, you should put the motion on the table at the next meeting. Maybe Levitsky's stunt will actually let the motion pass."

Osman sighed, and Hood was relieved as well. It seemed she was finally willing to relent. At least for now. He had brought her along to reign Levitsky in. After all, he was ONI due to his Overseer position, and Osman was its Commander in Chief. While he outranked her conventionally as Fleet Admiral, Osman formally had Authority over him as head of ONI. A poor attempt, he knew: Levitsky never listened to those arguments. But he was morally obligated to try.

"Sir, Ma'am: we're about to exit Slipspace." the captain of the Freedom Fighter announced to the two Admirals. Hood nodded, and turned to the main display. They exited a little earlier than Battlegroup Ragnarok, in order to not drop in the middle of the battle, and possibly in the crossfire between the two forces. But it was still close enough that the battle would be within easy visible range.

The display showed the Ventral Hangar bay, and Hood turned to look at the last guest on the bridge, visible by hologram standing in said hangar bay. Agent Locke, leader of Spartan fireteam Osiris. The four Spartans, along with six Sovereign Colonies members, were the only survivors of the Ishimura, and had proven on multiple battlefields since that they were currently the Best Spartans out there. He had even heard Lennox say upon their last meeting that he thought Osiris could give Blue Team a run for their money.

Osiris' mission was simple, and already outlines to them: Using Booster Frames, they would make their way to Infinity in case both Hood and Osman failed to stop Levitsky through diplomacy, take him out, and get either Captain Del Rio or Executive Officer Lasky to replace him. Hood suspected it wouldn't be hard, as it was common knowledge Levitsky wasn't well liked by many people, and Infinity was bound to be filled by many of them. Likely all they had to do was march onto the bridge and take him into custody. And knock out two or three Spartans out at the most due to their duty to follow orders.

"Osiris, this is Admiral Hood." he said, trusting the Freedom Fighter's to deliver the message. "You know your objective. On my mark, launch from the ship, board Infinity, and detain Admiral Levitsky. The fate of the battle rests on you, ladies and gentlemen. Good hunt. Command out."

He immediately glanced away from the display, as they came out of Slipspace. The sight of the battle was troublesome: already, despite the fact they were merely fifteen minutes behind, there were already four wrecks, three of them UNSC wrecks. Infinity was also heavily damaged, her starboard and port hulls riddled with holes, and her engines temporarily offline. Two of the R.I.F ships hovered behind her, like predators ready to pounce. The rest of space between the ships was a chaotic of weapons fire, missile trails and MAC slugs traveling between the two sides, with here and there a Plasma Torpedo or Energy Beam from one of the Covenant ships Graves had in his possession.

To Hood's dismay he recognized one of the wrecks as the Trump Card, the Epoch-class Assault Carrier. One of only seven remaining in the fleet. A wreck torn in three.  
"Raise Levitsky immediately." Osman ordered. "This madness needs to stop."

The Com officer complied immediately, and tried to reach out to Infinity Multiple times.

"This is what happens when ONI isn't ruled with an iron fist." Osman said to Hood. "Yes, Parangosky did many bad things as head of ONI, but would anything like this have happened under her watch?"

"No." Hood admitted, before stepping forward. "But it _did_ happen under yours. And while I am partly to blame, this is on _your_ hands."

"Ma'am, no response from Levitsky himself." the Com officer interrupted. "But I have Infinity's AI on the line."

"Patch him through." Hood immediately said. After a moment, the tactical display of the battle was replaced by the image of Infinity's AI, Roland.

"Admiral Hood. Admiral Osman. A wonder to see you both." Roland politely greeted. "I suppose your presence is no accident?"

"No." Osman said. "Patch Levitsky through now. This madness needs to stop."

"Believe me, I couldn't agree more. But most of the com's down, and the few relays still up are all focused on relaying orders to other ships. Frankly its a wonder I got through at all."

"Can you take remote control from here?" Hood asked.

"No. Even if I did stop his orders, he has access to my override codes. He'd just override your orders and get me to execute his anyway."

Hood simply let out a sigh, ignoring Osman cursing Levitsky in the background. Oh, how he'd hoped it wouldn't come to this.

"Roland." he said, breaking the silence after a while. "Fireteam Osiris is on its way to Infinity right now. Their orders are to detain Levitsky if possible, and to terminate him if not. I want you to ensure they meet as little resistance as possible on their way. And I don't care how you do it: Reassigning guards, opening airlocks. Hell, stage a minor prison riot if necessary. But Osiris must capture Levitsky. At any cost."

It was a grave order, even for Hood. Infinity was the UNSC's most prized asset. Trillions of credits had gone into that ship, and it was the largest ship in the entire Fleet. Not to mention it was the primary headquarters of most Spartan-IV's alive, except for those on missions or still in training. It had it's own research and development wings, on top of the massive amount of Forerunner technology on board.

And Hood was about to send a group of the UNSC's Spartans there on a raid.

"Very well." Roland said reluctantly. "I'll inform Commander Palmer and XO Lasky of these developments. They'll receive an armed escort, and the front hangar will be opened for them. But Levitsky's sure to notice if I deactivate the other defenses, so they'll get quite a warm welcome."

"Noted." Osman said. "But aside from that, anything else you can do?"

"Beyond opening doors and diverting security teams? No."

Osman sighed, as she turned to look at Infinity. "Then you're dismissed for now. We'll try to reach you again if we need you."

Roland saluted, as he signed off.

Osman stared out for a single minute, before turning back to Hood. "Do you think Osiris will get it done?"

"They're led by ONI's best former agent." Hood answered without turning to look at her. "You should know better than I do."

Osman sighed. "If Locke can't get to Levitsky, this massacre will continue until either Infinity is destroyed, or Graves and the deserters retreat. And either end is disastrous."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

Sam yelped, as the floor gave out beneath him. John immediately ran over to look down the hole, Kelly right beside him. Sam had been in the lead, as they were very close to the area the boarders had entered in. It was adjacent to a massive hangar that did double duty as a cargo bay, and which was easily large enough to hold four Elephants. But, as it was likely to be heavily occupied, they had let Sam, the one the most heavily armed, take point.

Of course, due to the weight that added, if they came across a section of the floor that was weakened, he would be the first one to break it.

"You alright?" Kelly called down to him. John, however, immediately recoiled back, as he smelled where Sam was.

"No." Sam groaned. "I'm in the bilges."

"No shit." Cortana said weakly.

"Yes shit." Sam retorted. "There's enough for everyone."

John had to fight real hard to not make a facepalm at that comment. Instead he asked "Can you make your way back up? Or find us a safe way to come down there?"

"No." Sam answered after a few moments, and John could hear Sam struggle to bring his gun back to bear.

"Why?" Kelly asked.

It was answered by a howl, coming from the bilges Sam had just fallen into. With a tingle running down his spine, John recognized it as a howl coming from a Brute. A second howl answered it in turn, this time coming from the hallway ahead of them.

"That's why." Sam rhetorically answered, as he started opening fire. John himself also stepped away from the hole, and brought his Assault Rifle to bear. Kelly also brought her own shotgun to bear.

"Sam, try to find a way to the Cargo bay. We'll meet up there." He called down, before stepping back and into cover. The fact Sam lit up his acknowledgement light was the only way he knew Sam heard it.

Then, the Brutes finally appeared. They were differently armored than most Brutes John had encountered during the war, wearing white-gray armor with an odd marking on their shoulder pads. Clearly, they were an independent group instead of official members of the Covenant remnants. There were four of them, two armed with Spikers while one had a Brute shot, and a fourth a Concussion Rifle.

The Brutes, as soon as they spotted them, immediately opened fire, forcing the both of them into cover in a nearby intersection. As he did so, he still felt his bones shake as the Concussion Rounds impacted the corner he hid behind. Still, he saw a doorway at the height of the Brutes, and if his memory of Strident-class frigates schematics served him right, it connected to the hallway Kelly was hiding in.

"Blue 2, Flank them." he ordered, as he provided covering fire.

"Copy." she simply said, as she disappeared into a door near her cover in the intersection. He continued to open fire, wearing down the armor of his opponents. The two superiors, the ones having the heavier weapons, used their minions as cover, letting them take the blunt of the hits in the lead, while they covered from the rear.

"Cortana, can you reach the other members of Blue Team? Or the Arbiter and Saber Team?" he asked. It already looked like they needed reinforcements: there were four Brutes here already, and the way gunfire echoed up from the Bilges, Sam was _extremely_ busy, and waist deep in shit at the moment (literally and figuratively). They would need help if they were to clear this part of the ship.

"It requires special authorization to access your com systems." Cortana weakly stated. He mentally hit his head for forgetting. Of course, while in diagnostic mode, she couldn't do many things that she could do at full capacity, and that included using his com systems for him.

"Never mind." he said, as he reloaded his weapon. He fired another burst at the advancing Brutes.

An explosion erupted near their flanks, taking down the one with the Concussion Rifle and one of the Spiker wielders. The other two whirled to the new threat, as Kelly opened fire from the doorway with her Shotgun at the faces of the Brutes.

John used their momentary distraction to throw a Plasma Grenade to them. Seeing it, Kelly immediately closed the door between her and the Brutes. As the minor tried pry it open, the Grenade stuck to his back. The superior tried to roll away, but still caught most of the blast as the grenade exploded. The minor was down, his entire back blown away and his head entirely burned. Even if he survived, the shock that would set in would prevent him from doing anything.

The superior was wounded, his left side burned a little and the armor melting to his fur and skin. He and Kelly immediately moved up, both firing at the Brute. Immediately, it tried to raise its RPG. But it couldn't fire in two directions at once, and he managed to kill it by a burst of rounds in the head.

"Clear." he said, as soon as the four Brutes were dead. Kelly briefly fired a shotgun blast in each of the bodies, just to be sure anyway. Then, checking for Grenades and after John picked up the Concussion Rifle and put it on his back, they moved on.

The hallway ended at a large bulkhead, likely placed in case of a hull breach. It connected to the mess hall of this section of the ship. He braced beside the door, while Kelly stood over the door controls, trying to hack it. After a moment, she punched the wall, giving up. She moved to stand in front of the door, placing a breaching charge on the door lock, and pressing a few buttons. She immediately hurried to the side of the door opposite John's.

John briefly turned away, as the charge detonated. Then, he brought up his rifle and stormed in, Kelly covering his flank.

And stopped in his tracks, the sight enough to make him stop short. It wasn't that the room was empty of hostiles. Far from it: the Brutes were littering the entire room, apparently having planned to use it as some sort of barracks. Some lay on top of the tables, some on the benches, and a handful sitting in the corner or against the wall. There were so many John briefly suspected they comprised the majority of the boarders: over thirty in total.

But they were in no condition to harm the two Spartans. As a matter of fact, they were all dead. Most were cut open, their chests or throats still spilling a few drops of blood. Two Brutes were pierced on a coatrack, suspended with spikes embedded in their backs. One was literally impaled by a pool table poke, which in turn was stuck between a table and a bench. Blood of the dead, both ambushed humans since removed and the Brutes that now lay in the room, covered virtually every surface of the room.

This was the work of a professional. Unless the ship had been boarded hours before entering the Shield world, which was unlikely, the Brutes had been on board an hour at the most. And this as a place pretty far from the breach point through which the Brutes boarded. A fifteen minute hike, not counting the time to deal with possible resistance from the crew and surviving Marines. And they had dug into this room pretty well: crates of Covenant design were strewn throughout the room, filled with food and supplies. Evidently, this was meant to be some sort of camp.

And whoever had done this had worked quickly, as evidenced quite a bit of blood still flowed from the bodies. This was done bare minutes ago. And the assailant had been effective: There were very little bullet marks that could be dismissed as coming from the Brutes themselves. And even those could still be classified as explosives from Brute weaponry. All Brutes were either shot in the head or extremely vital organs, killing them almost instantly. A handful had clearly been engaged in close quarter combat, as a few had broken arms and cut throats, and had been thrown into things. But all had been done with effectiveness in mind.

Someone had taken down over thirty Brutes in only a few minutes, without a scratch judging by the lack of a body or anything indicating the assailant was injured.

"Impressive." Kelly said, her tone clearly indicating her praise. "There are only two people I know who can commit this kind of carnage. You and Six."

"Yeah." he said absent-mindedly, as he took a closer look at one of the bodies. On closer inspection, the weapon used was a Brute Spiker, as they all had Spikes in their bodies that could only come from Brute Spikers.

A brute next to him stirred, and tried to crawl away. "We've got a live one." he said, and Kelly moved over, her Shotgun raised at it. He immediately pushed it down.

"I want to know who did this." He said. Kelly briefly looked at it, before moving further into the room, inspecting for other clues to what did this.

He rolled the Brute over, and while it grunted in pain, it didn't resist as it usually would. But one look into its eyes said it all. It was a look of absolute fright, of unrelenting terror. Whoever had done this had frightened the Brute to death.

"Hey. Who did this?" He asked it.

The Brute looked at the Spartan, and grasped his arm in relief. "A..." it coughed up a lot of blood, which he narrowly avoided.  
"A Demon. Please. Protect me from the Cyborg..." It started coughing a lot more, and to John's slight concern, it was a lot more blood alongside the vomit. If it died before they could finish interrogating it, they wouldn't learn who did this.

"Something..." The Brute hesitated, as coughed again, though no blood got spit out this time. "Something odd. Human female in demon armor. Skeletal metal right arm. But... too cruel and violent to be one of you. Made our suffering last longer." It collapsed onto the ground, indicating it didn't have long.

"Where did she go?" he asked. The Brute briefly pointed to the only other door into the mess hall, which was blown open from the outside. After that, it collapsed, and let out one final breath before becoming motionless.

He got up, looking at the doorway the Cyborg left through. It went back into the main hallways of the ship, so the Cyborg could've gone anywhere. Kelly came up beside him, holding a Covenant recording device.

"Found this on one of the bodies." she said, pressing an activation button.

" _We're so dead._ " A Brute started. " _The plan was simple. We were to set up a base camp in here as a staging area for an attack on the rest of the ship. But we barely had it all set up before we were attacked. The door was blown open behind us, and before we even realized we were attacked, four of us had their throats cut and a fifth was shot in the head. We tried to rally a defense, but... By the gods, she was so fast._ "

" _Lubus, come on._ "

" _I gotta-_ "

" _She's back!_ "

" _Oh, Gharenshak!_ "

After that, the log dissolves into unintelligible screams of battle, followed by a small explosion. It went on for a few more seconds, before a loud crash was heard, as the recorder fell to the ground. After that, the log ended.

So they had a rogue hunter loose on the ship, who wasn't above slaughtering others in cold blood. As much as it would be useful against the pirates, having such a person loose on the ship with other UNSC personnel was too dangerous a risk. He immediately tried to hit his com unit.

"Blue Team, this is Blue 1. Come in."

Only static answered him, likely the result of a signal jammer blocking their comms. _Blast!_

"Now what?" Kelly asked, looking at him for the answer. In response, he merely raised his rifle to the door.

"Objective hasn't changed. We find out what happened and help secure the ship. Even if there's a crazy cyborg on the loose."

Kelly grimly nodded, and raised her own rifle, as they moved on.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, R.I.F flagship Sentinel, Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

"Sir, I'm detecting the launch of four OF92 Booster Frames from the Freedom Fighter's Hangar Bay." Spyglass reported, and as Graves turned to look, he saw the robot had changed the tactical display from one of the entire battlefield to one of the freedom fighter. And indeed, from one of the Starboard Launch Bays, they could see four Booster Frames launch side by side.

"Get the Papa Dragon." Graves immediately said, as usual always maintaining his calm during the battle. Immediately, the display was changed from the Freedom Fighter to that of the Papa Dragon's temporary commander, since Captain De Laurentis had been caught with a heart attack a few weeks before the scheduled completion of the entombment of her ship, and hospitalized since.

Her replacement for this mission was Colonel Miles Quaritch.

"I saw it, too." Quaritch immediately said. "You want me to deploy the Apex Predators?"

"With all due haste. You know where they are going. And we have to get Quaritch before they do."

Quaritch smirked. "Rest assured. They've been sitting in their titans since the first ship arrived, waiting for the Titanfall signal ever since."

"Then give the bloody signal." Graves said. While Quaritch shared his opinion of the Apex Predators, he also greatly admired their effectiveness in combat, as a former ODST. Something Graves disagreed on with the man. "Let them do their job, for once."

Quaritch nodded, and signed off.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)  
Location: Booster Frame, En-route to Infinity, Near Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt. _

Buck scowled, as he dodged another Archer missile. The flight through the battlefield was intense, to say the least. The missiles went and came from everywhere around him, and it took his best flying to just survive all this. And Sam enjoyed this kind of thing?

It proved his squadmates right. Sam _was_ crazy.

He whirled through another stream of Flak fire when he noticed something on his right. Namely twelve ion trails streaking towards Infinity. The ships that generated them were... oddly shaped, to say the least. If anything, they were just boxes with engines welded on the sides. He'd say they were pathetic ships for insurrectionists this well organized. But they had both hacked the ONI database and published it in several hours, not to mention build at least ten ships that had far more firepower than Infinity, and could nearly match her in length. They were not to be underestimated.

"Locke, three o'clock. Insurrectionist vessels, headed straight for Infinity."

"Any bets they're after Levitsky as well?" Tanaka asked over the com.

"This just became a race, Osiris." Locke answered. "Lets make sure we end up in first place. Buck, intercept them. Everyone else, remain on target."

"Roger." They all said, as most of Osiris stayed on course, and fed more power to their engines. Buck, meanwhile, broke off in order to intercept the new targets. He noticed to his surprise, as he got closer, that the ships hadn't encrypted their communications.

"Any bets Quaritch will gut Levitsky on the spot?" A British woman asked. "Because they sure have it out for one another."

"Nein." a second man of german origins answered. "Quaritch ist besser als das. **(3)** He'll likely just whoop his ass before sending him to Graves to be chewed out. "

"He's right, man." a third man (who sounded high to Buck) answered. "Levitsky didn't spend any time hunting that bastard down. He'll likely just shrug it off afterwards."

"Eyes sharp!" A scottish man barked, as Buck finally got into range. "It looks like we have a Spartan on our tail."

"Sir, requesting permission to engage bogey." a man asked over the com, and from his voice, Buck could tell the man was eager to fight him, despite his professional manner.

"Granted, Viper. With your boosters you have a better chance than the rest of us." the Scottish man answered. "Everyone else, remain on course for Infinity. We don't want to miss our date with a certain Russian Fleet Admiral."

Five of the things continued on course, while number six broke away, and the box started to break. Then, the thrusters exploded and the box fell apart. And as the debris pieces sped past as they flew, Buck suddenly saw why it seemed so low-tech compared to modern UNSC fighters like Broadswords and Sabers. Why it seemed to be nothing more than a glorified cargo crate. And that was because it was the same to the man inside as an ODST drop pod was to Buck. It wasn't the vessel itself that mattered. It was what was inside the package that did.

In Buck's case, a large Exo-suit fifteen meters big, with jet boosters on its backside and stomach, shoulder-mounted rocket launchers, and a gun held in its hand that was designed for a suit this big.

"Target acquired." 'Viper' said, aiming the gun at Buck's booster. "Engaging bogey."

Buck immediately barrel-rolled his Booster-Frame to the side. And not a moment too soon, as a moment afterwards weapons fire sped right through the space where he'd been. From how fast it fired and how many rounds sped past, Buck assumed the weapon the large Titan wielded was something similar to an Assault Rifle.

And given the caliber of the rounds, just as likely to kill him if one hit his body.

He kept rolling around, avoiding the massive amount of rounds the upgraded Cyclops sent his way. After a while the thing stopped firing, and Buck saw it was reloading. Not wasting the opportunity, he fired the rotary guns on his Booster frame at it. Buck grimaced, as a brief flash of light appeared around it as the bullets struck and were deflected harmlessly, and it dodged aside with a brief burst of the jet thrusters.

It had shields. That meant he had to stay on target to get a lock-on for his missiles, and hope Viper didn't dodge and weave around them.

"Oh boy." he muttered.

"Target has proven more maneuverable than anticipated." Viper said, almost as if he was composing a report on the spot. "Moving for close-quarter combat." Knowing what Viper meant by Close Quarter Combat, Buck immediately rolled aside, the thing speeding past him as it tried to ram his Booster Frame. He was lucky, as it missed him by centimeters and ended up behind him.

"Missed the bogey. Initiating pursuit." the thing said. The Titan immediately fed power to its thrusters, and it matched him in speed.

Buck paled. Aside from a turret which required a gunner to operate, all of his weapons were mounted fore, and he didn't have an AI to temporarily take over so he could man the turret. While the thing had not only a rifle, but multiple shoulder-mounted rocket launchers.

He made a sharp turn left, and right immediately afterwards, hoping to lose it and end up behind it again. But like gum underneath his boot, it stuck to him no matter what. He briefly glanced at the radar. Good news: Osiris was already on board Infinity. Bad news: the Titans were very close behind. Mere seconds, at most.

Then he had an idea. The Hangar doors were still open, and he could already see the five other Titans deploying in the Hangar, right alongside the now-dismounted Booster Frames. He could ram a few of them, and make it back to the rest of Osiris at the same time. And if the Titan sent a few missiles on his tail while Viper was at it, all the better.

He stopped his jinxing around, and headed straight for Infinity's hangar. The Titan followed him right on his tail. Buck dodged and weaved around a few more missiles, in order to get them to lock onto _him_ instead of their original targets. As usual, the Titan followed close behind, his gun firing at him as Viper flew along.

After a few seconds, Buck finally got himself aligned with the Hangar. From the distant view, it was clear the fight was still raging, with the constant flashes of light. He diverted power from the weapons to the engines, as he didn't plan on needing them. Then, after a brief glance to ensure the Titan was still close behind him, he sped forwards, the few Archer Missiles he'd gotten onto his tail closely following. The Titan was close behind them as well, miraculously missing said missiles.

"Target Reacquired." Viper said, and Buck heard the whine of a new lock-on onto him. "Prepare for extermination."

"Over my missile covered ass I will." Buck taunted, as he sped forwards. At his current speed, he could still land safely inside the hangar and keep it intact, as long as he ensured his booster rammed one of the hostile Titans. He didn't hear it, as the vacuum of space didn't carry sound. But as he glanced behind him, he noticed there were suddenly a lot more missiles behind him, all originated from the Titan.

At nearly the last moment, just as he started to come underneath Infinity's stern, he grabbed his Assault Rifle, as he knew he wouldn't have time to grab it as he entered the hangar and landed on top of a Titan.

As he came upon the hangar, he slightly turned the Booster to the side, to ensure he rammed one of the larger Titans. Then just as he crossed the boundary between open space and Infinity's forward Hangar, he jumped off, making a brief backflip to cancel out some of the momentum, before landing on a second Titan. The Booster, impacting against a Titan, rammed it into the back wall of the Hangar, exploding both itself and the missile payload it still carried. The entire Titan was engulfed in flames, and Buck knew its shields were killed because of it. The Missiles trailing the frame all followed it directly, impacting the Titan again and again, the explosions growing larger and more consecutive as it went on. Viper, seeing what he was heading for, fired all of his forward thrusters at the last second, and managed to stop before hitting the hangar and the wall of explosions. Before Viper could turn on Buck, the Hangar bay doors slid closed, and the Titan was locked into space and out of view.

Wasting no time, Buck grabbed a maintenance hatch on top of the Titan he was still on, ripped it off, and grabbed his Assault Rifle. He fired into the exposed inner wirings and systems riddling the Titan. It immediately began to smoke, and he could see sparks near what he assumed was some sort of battery or power core.

Before he could continue on for much longer, the Titan was smart enough to grab him and throw him off. He landed on top of a cargo crate, and he looked at the Titan.

From the look of it, the thing was the leader, with the others flanking it on each side. The hangar around them was a mess, the Booster Frames strewn around the hangar. Flames from where the missiles struck covered the entire back wall of the hangar, and there were impact craters visible at nearly every plate.

Every single Titan left opened fire on him, and he ran for it, heading for one of the Cargo containers. Inches before he could even make it, however, one of the Titans drew a sword from its back and brought it down in front of him. His gaze followed the sword as it was brought back up, and he could only watch as the Titan was about to bring it down on the former ODST.

A green Plasma bolt hit it, disabling the shields for a moment and distracting it, buying Buck the much-needed opportunity to sprint for cover. He made it to the side of an old Elephant cargo transport, and dove inside, not surprised in the slightest to find Tanaka and Locke in there as well.

"Sorry I'm late." he said, as he reloaded his Assault Rifle.

"How nice of you to join us, Buck?" Tanaka said sarcastically. "What happened to 'intercepting' them?"

"Hey, I had one with jet packs." Buck retorted. "A thin one with a sword shouldn't be that hard to handle."

"How many were there in total?" Locke asked. "I counted five when I entered, plus the one you engaged outside."

"That's all of them, I think." Buck answered. "I counted six when I pursued them. With mine locked out, and a second rammed into the wall, that leaves four."

"Good." Locke said, as he climbed into something inside the Elephant. "Then its even."

Buck and Tanaka looked on in curiosity, as Locke closed the hatch of whatever he was in, and the lights on it lit up. Then, Locke gave a hard kick on the Elephant's main hatch, and stormed out. And Buck finally saw it was an old Cyclops.

 _Well, that evened the odds._

In response, the front compartments of the Titans opened up, and their pilots jumped out. To Buck's dismay, the Titans continued to move around and fight despite their lack of a pilot.

Great. Outnumbered at least two-to-one and outgunned. Well, he'd had worse in New Mombasa. He could manage a few insurrectionist assholes and their expensive toys.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

In this crouched position, this close to the water level, he really could smell all the shit of the crew, even with his helmet filters. But he had to. A couple of Brutes had the nearby intersection covered entirely, and a brief consultation of the schematics showed that aside from backtracking hundreds of meters and likely meeting far more Brutes up above than here, this close to the cargo bay, this was the only way of getting back up. But that didn't mean it was about to be easy.

Four Brutes, all Captains by the looks of it, guarded the only elevator out of the bilges. A Maintenance elevator by the looks of it, meant for crews who would clean it real thoroughly when the ship was in refit. But for every other moment, it likely wouldn't have ever been in use. Aside from this elevator and one near the mid section of the ship, there were no true exits for Sam: Only ladders that couldn't hold his weight or garbage chutes which were too narrow for him to climb even without armor, let alone while wearing Mjolnir Spartan Armor and having a Rocket Launcher and a Minigun strapped to his back. No, the elevators were his only shot.

He slowly raised himself until he was merely hunched over instead of crouching behind a Covenant Crate left behind by an assault party Sam had run into earlier. He was still out of sight, but the smell wouldn't be as strong.

He grabbed his Minigun, as even a near-miss from a rocket could permanently cripple the elevator. Then, he prepared to jump out to attack the Brutes.

"What was that?" A Brute quietly asked one of its brethren, as Sam heard them all charge up their Plasma Repeaters and Carbines. He cursed; they must have heard his slight movement in the water, and found him out. He prepared for the inevitable attack.

And it came. Just not at him.

"What the- Aaaugh" one of them screamed, before loudly splashing into the water.

"Brother!" a second yelled. "Are you alright?! Brother!"

It was followed by a second scream, and fire coming from a Brute Spiker. Odd. When Sam had first scooped out the Brutes from a distance, he hadn't seen any of them carry a Spiker. Dissent among the ranks, perhaps?

"Help!" the second screamed again, before another burst of Spiker Fire was heard, followed by another splash. Overcome with curiosity, he peaked around the corner, his gun still in his hands.

It wasn't very clear to see, but battle was nearly over already. Three Brutes already lay dead in the water, two obviously shot while a third floated in the waste, his cause of death not clearly visible from here. The fourth was fighting what appeared to be a Spartan from here. But a closer look contradicted that. The woman fought more like a mercenary than trained UNSC personnel: using dirty tricks more often than cleanly fighting hand-to-hand, throwing some of the gunk in here into the eyes of the last one, and kicking him in sensitive areas. She also seemed to be sporting a robotic prosthetic right arm.

It took only two seconds for the woman to kill the last one, grabbing a combat knife and slashing it across the throat in a swift move while it was distracted by the gunk. It briefly reached for its throat, already choking on its own blood, before the woman grabbed a Spike Grenade, stuck it to the Brute, and dove into the elevator.

Sam immediately ducked back, as Spike grenades were known to produce a lot of shrapnel when they went off, which could in turn hit him. He heard the explosion as the grenade went off, as well as multiple little pings as shrapnel hit the walls. Then, when the pings stopped, he turned around the corner again.

Things were a mess, that was for sure. The wall was covered in the Shrapnel from the explosion, and the Brute was pierced nearly in half because of it. The Elevator was nowhere to be seen. Evidently, the unknown assailant had taken it up. But after a few moments, it immediately came down again. Wary of more Brutes riding it, Sam aimed his Minigun, ready to fire should hostiles appear.

The elevator was empty, the only things occupying it being a pair of dead Brutes and their weapons. After a brief check to ensure they wore no booby traps, he rode the elevator up.

The Cargo bay was a mess. The crates were strewn around the entire chamber, and the contents of some were spilled on the floor. Nearly all the lights had been shot, and the ground floor was nearly a maze. Clearly, the Brutes liked it here. Every door was covered by some sort of Plasma shield, and he could see the silhouettes of Brutes on the catwalks above.

"Move, and you're dead." A robotic voice said, as he felt the twin blades on the underside of a Brute Spiker touch the back of his neck, between his helmet and back plates.

"Relax. I'm UNSC." He tried to reassure the ambusher. To no avail.

"And that's supposed to reassure me?"

So much for that. Clearly, the assailant felt some resentment towards the UNSC. He tried a different tack.

"What do you want, then?" he asked.

"Freedom and survival." the attacker curtly answered. "The rest doesn't matter."

"I can help with the survival part." He offered. "Help you deal with all the Brutes."

The man didn't react for a moment, leaving Sam in doubt whether he agreed. With where he had the spiker, a twitch of his trigger finger was all it took to paralyze him, leaving him at his mercy.

Then he felt the tips leave, and he immediately turned around in a non-hostile manner.

The man was in fact a woman, and judging from the robotic arm, the same one who killed those Brutes in the bilges. She wore a variant of the antiquated Reach Armories version of Spartan armor. But it was a large variety of the class of plates: Gungnir helmet, with a single optic camera and heavy armor plating replacing the usual visor, thick and heavy shoulder plate on her left arm, a Combat knife strapped to her chest, and a medkit on her left thigh. She had multiple ammo packs strapped to her armor, including one on her shoulder and her right wrist.

Overall, the look of a very angry robot.

"I'm Sam." He introduced himself, grabbing his minigun by one hand and holding out the other for shaking. Awkwardly for him, the woman didn't shake it.

"Call me Robo." The woman answered instead. "Everyone does. Operative X is too much of a mouthful."

"Robo?" he asked in an amused tone.

"Some Sangheili on board came up with it." The woman said apathetically.

Before Sam could respond, a howl came from behind him, and he whirled around with his minigun in hand. The woman raised the Brute Spiker she had in hand, holding a Plasma Grenade in her other hand. Around the corner came a number of Brutes. Over twenty in total.

Way too many to deal with on their own.

"Run." he said, as he provided her with covering fire from his Minigun. The woman threw the grenade in their midst, and fired on it with her Spiker. The resulting explosion killed two in front, but the rest just stampeded over them, berserking to kill them. Sam put his gun on his back and started to run, using his momentum to jump over a trio of tripped-over containers. His motion detector showed Robo was right behind him.

They came to a dead end, the boxes blocking off one way and the walls of the chamber the other and the way dead ahead. The Cyborg jumped towards the wall, and upon impact used it to push herself away, and managed to reach the top of the containers. Sam, his height being an advantage here, just jumped up and caught the side of the containers. He pulled himself up, and ran along the containers.

"In this maze, it's only a matter of time before they corner us for good." Robo said, as she caught up with him, firing her Spiker at a Brute Stalker on one of the Catwalks. "We need a plan."

"I'm open to ideas." he said, as they both jumped over a gap. The Brutes pursuing them had already reached the top, and were resuming the chase again.

"You're the Spartan." Robo said, as she turned around, a grenade launcher in her other hand, as she fired a round at the container in front of the Brutes. The concussive force of the explosion made it tip over the edge, cutting off the current path of the Brutes. "You figure it out."

Annoyed, he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, as he jumped down and killed another of the Brutes.

* * *

 _Date:_ _02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Starboard hallways and Maintenance causeways, Infinity, Near Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

It could never be said that the hallways of Infinity were quiet. They either were filled with crew rushing to their battle stations, off-duty personnel taking a stroll, or scientists walking from their labs to their quarters and back. And today, in the middle of the Graves Exodus, was no exception.

This was evidenced by the fact five Titans were currently trying to outrun four Spartans. The Spartans had the advantage that they encountered no closed doors, thanks to the interference of the ship's AI, Roland. The Titans had the advantage that their path was simply straightforwards, even if they had to rip through a few catwalks.

Locke scowled, as he came to another corner, the main corridors compromised by the fact Infinity had been so thoroughly gutted by the assault of the Sentinel and the Red-Eye. After things had gone awry in the hangar (in the form of R.I.F reinforcements breaching nearby airlocks), Osiris had sped ahead to the bridge, with Commander Palmer and her Spartans holding the reinforcements contained in the hangar.

Then, after rounding the corner, they once again came to the room connected to the maintenance causeway. Locke looked on ahead in the causeway. No catwalks damaged or a debris field below where they should hang. That was good news. They were ahead, for the moment.

Then he had an idea. This particular part of the maintenance causeway was an ideal site for an ambush: all areas to the bridge could easily be locked down and blocked by Roland. The many catwalks and platforms were ideal places from which they could jump onto the Titans. Not to mention there were several weapon racks scattered around the room.

"Stop here." he ordered. "Roland, lock down all causeway routes to the bridge."

Roland complied, and the bulkheads slammed shut in the causeway, and the doors on the smaller hallways sealed themselves shut. The others of Osiris all turned to him as they skidded to a halt, trusting Locke had a plan of some sort.

"What's the plan, Locke?" Buck asked. "Just sit around and wait for them to kill us?"

"Regardless whether we're first or not," Locke began. "the R.I.F will make it to the bridge shortly thereafter, and we don't have the firepower to keep Levitsky out of their hands." He grabbed a Spartan Laser from a nearby rack, and slung it over his shoulder. "So we stop them here. Grab a heavy weapon, pick an ambush sight, and wait for them to show up."

The others all immediately followed his example: Buck picked up a Grenade Launcher from a nearby crate and hid himself by hanging from the underside of a catwalk, Vale grabbed a Rocket Launcher and jumped on top of a nearby observation bay, laying down to avoid being spotted, and Tanaka, like himself, grabbed a Spartan Laser and hid behind a crate on a maintenance platform. Locke himself jumped up, into a nearby ventilation shaft, and crawled around until he was directly above the center of the maintenance causeway.

He didn't have to wait long. Only half a minute after he had taken position could he feel the vibrations of the Titans taking multiple steps, like they were sprinting.

"Hold up." a female, robotic voice announced over the comm. unit. "The causeways ahead are locked down, as are the personnel hallways. Probability of ambush is 87,5 percent."  
"You heard her." the Scottish man answered. "Slow and steady from here on out. Richter, Kane: you two break open that bulkhead. Everyone else: stay alert."

Locke felt the Titans slow down, and their sprint turned into a careful advance. Below him, he could first see the leader advance, his Titan being one that had ample armor to defend itself, yet light enough that it didn't slow him down. Then, as it walked past, and the second came into view, he saw it was the thinnest one. Yet he didn't let that ease him into a false sense of security: That one was the only one with a sword, and he had seen it being used to cut a Longsword in half. Not to mention that she was the fastest of the lot, minus the one with the jetpack Buck had fought.

"Now." he said into his com unit, as he let himself fall out of the vent. He landed on top of the thinner Titan, and immediately ripped off the thin maintenance hatch they had on top, a common weakness in all of them. Before he even dared think damage it, however, he aimed his rifle to in front of him, and fired. As expected, the rounds hit the metallic of the Titan trying to toss him off. It didn't stop the hand in the slightest, but it proved something to him: before even hitting the hand, they passed though the shields. Indicating he was underneath said shield.

He jumped over to the other side just as the thing hit the spot he had just been: the weak spot he had exposed just earlier. Immediately it started smoking, and from inside he could hear alarms blearing inside the thing.

"A clever move." the same robotic voice complimented him. "But I learn from my mistakes."

The thing reached to its back again. Only this time, instead of hitting something it grabbed its sword it had sheathed in the back.  
"Lets tango." the voice answered.

"Isn't a single sword against a Spartan overkill for you?" Locke asked, as he grabbed his Spartan Laser, dodging a strike from it as he did.

"It is." the voice answered. "But you have proven most resourceful up until now. Now I will hold nothing back."

Locke dodged another strike, as he held down the trigger of the Laser. Just as it was about to fire, he aimed it at the sword arm, near the joint to the shoulder of the Titan. It fired, and the laser impacted against the shields, penetrated them, and hit the arm. Instantly, the sword was jerked out of the hand, impacting against a nearby wall. The arm itself was severed at the point of impact, and the Titan stumbled backwards. It briefly grasped the place where the arm had been, before turning to Locke.

Locke ran towards it, and jumped on top of it before it could raise its sole remaining arm to stop him. Locke charged the laser up again, briefly jumped as it tried to knock him off a second time, and fired. The blast hit the weak spot as soon as Locke aimed at it, the shields still down from the first strike, and the thing burst into flames around it. It stood up, and briefly tried to knock it off. Then, it toppled backwards like a tree. Locke jumped off as soon as the torso landed.

The front compartment opened up, and to Locke's surprise, a robot jumped out, vaguely shaped like a human (it even had a faceplate with the features of a human face). It had a single SMG in its hand, which Locke easily batted out of its hand.

"Looks like I won." Locke said, as he grabbed it by what would have been the throat. He walked off of the Titan, and held her against a nearby shipping crate.

The robot chuckled. "Not yet. Titan Odd-ball: self destruct."

The Titan exploded behind them, leaving little but mechanical components and burned armor plates behind. As Locke turned to look in surprise, the robot jumped up with surprising height, getting to the upper Catwalk. It ran off, into a hallway further back. Likely to get into an escape pod, Locke surmised.

Then, to his surprise, a loud whine of a speeding jet echoed throughout the causeway, and Locke's gaze turned to its source.

And the sixth Titan that Buck and Roland had previously locked out flew towards them, aiming and firing its gun towards Locke. The Spartan immediately sprinted into cover behind the container. He briefly glanced behind him towards the others, and was satisfied to see that two other Titans were already down, and that an oversized man with a fur pelt and a lean woman in combat gear were fighting Vale on one of the catwalks. Tanaka and Buck were busy with the other two Titans, and weapons fire echoed throughout the hall from two more locations.

Then, Locke noticed something dangerous: it wasn't slowing down. It was intending to ram through the bulkhead, and continue to its objective, even without backup. It was still headed for Levitsky.

"Kane, have Titan Junkie move left twenty meters." Viper announced. "Titan Cobra is headed for Primary Objective at high velocity." The titan which was addressed moved away the distance it was asked to move, and Viper sped up.

Locke wasn't going to let it get to Levitsky. He jumped out as the titan sped past, and managed to cling to the right foot. The Titan didn't seem to have noticed him, and sped towards the door anyway. He put his Battle Rifle on his back so he had both his hands free to grab hold of the Titan, and dropped the Spartan Laser entirely. "I've got the flier." he alerted the others. "Deal with the rest while I get to Levitsky before him."

"Will do." Tanaka answered, as the fight continued on behind him. "See you soon."

As Viper hit the bulkhead, it briefly held, and he saw the feet head towards the bulkhead. But then the bulkhead fell down entirely, the hinges weaker than the bulkhead itself. The Titan fell forwards, briefly rolling due to momentum before hitting a nearby wall and a pile of containers, crashing to a stop against the latter. In the tumble, Locke let go, the sudden motions to much for his grip. He tumbled for a few moments as well, before he got a good grip on the floor plates and got himself to slow down and come to a halt.

As he got up, he noticed that Viper's Titan was mostly intact, although the jetpack boosters were heavily damaged. The Titan himself, however, quickly got up. To Locke's relief, the rifle's barrel had been bent slightly during the tumble, rendering it useless. Viper briefly inspected it, before discarding it. Then, he noticed the Spartan for the first time.

"Tango Identified." Viper said. "Ignoring for now in favor of primary objective." with that, he turned around, and started to run towards the Bridge. Locke briefly sprinted to catch up, but it was no use. The hulking Titan was much faster than him, and he had no hope of catching up on foot. He slowly came to a halt.

And to his right, he saw a pair of Covenant Ghosts, transferred here for research purposes in reverse-engineering Covenant Tech. Locke smiled as he got into one, powering it up. As soon as it came off the ground, he maneuvered it out of the small garage and sped to catch up with the Titan.

It took only a minute to truly catch up to it, the Ghost being much lighter and faster. As soon as it was in visible range again, he opened fire on it with the Ghost's guns, depleting the shields of the Titan. The Titan skidded to a halt, and turned to face the new opponent. Locke didn't even bother to engage it: The Titan was too large for the normal corridors, and none of the maintenance causeways came even close to the bridge. For the thing to get there, the occupant had to get out on foot. And under those circumstances, Locke had the advantage.

The thunderous steps of a Titan's sprint resumed, and in one of the rear displays Locke could see it was slowly catching up to him. Realizing he had no time to waste, he kept pushing the throttle to go faster. After half a minute, he finally came to the back wall, indicating the end of the maintenance causeway. He was now close to the Bridge.

He hit the brakes, and jumped off as it skidded to a halt. As it tumbled on behind him, he ran towards a nearby door, into a hallway. Not stopping to see how it proceeded, he ran on through the hallway.

After a short moment, a yellow Spartan with a red visor intercepted him in the hallway. "Sir, Spartan Edward Davis reporting for duty. Lasky thought that with Osiris occupied you might need a hand."

Locke nodded in gratitude. "Thanks for the assistance, Davis. The trouble isn't in the arrest itself, but in keeping Levitsky out of the R.I.F's hands."

"Roland informed me, sir." Davis answered, before holding up his shotgun. "I'm ready."

"Good." Locke said, as he moved ahead, Davis close behind him.

During their march on the bridge and Levitsky, they encountered no resistance. Sure, they encountered ship personnel who knew what they were planning to do. But all were either sympathetic to their cause, or just didn't care about the power plays in the UNSC. A few even borrowed them ammunition or a sidearm, and a second squad offered to escort them. They let them decide for themselves, of course, and thus they actually gained more men than they lost.

After a minute, they arrived at the Bridge, which Roland obligingly opened for them. Because of the battle, it was a beehive of activity. Officers went from one station to another, requesting status reports. Men and women busily worked at their stations to keep the ship from being blown apart.

As soon as the Spartans set foot on the bridge, that fell silent. Those at their stations continued to work their assigned tasks, but everyone else, including Del Rio and Lasky, stopped working or moving at all, staring at the two Spartans and six Marines. Levitsky himself simply stood in front of the tactical display table, staring ahead.

"Sir." Spartan Locke announced as soon as the silence started to reign, aside from the blasts that hit the ship. "By orders of Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood and Vice Admiral Serin Osman, You are hereby under arrest for disobeying orders and opening fire on civilians."

Levitsky was silent for a few moments. Then, just before Locke was about to ask again, he spoke up. "Civilians? Is that what you call murderers and terrorists?"

"They're innocent until proven guilty." Davis contradicted.

"Their very presence in this system proves their guilt." Levitsky spoke loudly. "Just as that treacherous Graves is guilty of murder and sedition."

"As you are still guilty of murder." Locke accused. "Lord Hood had no plans to pursue them like this. They-"

"They chose to betray the very government they swore to serve and obey!" Levitsky retorted, as he whirled to the two Spartans. "We give them food, shelter, medicine and prosperity. And what do we get in return? They choose to abandon us like discarded ammunition magazines."

"At least they had a choice." Locke retorted. "Just like you chose to betray Hood's trust, commandeer two entire sector fleets, just to resume your old vendetta with a retired ODST soldier of questionable origins."

"And he's twice the man you are." A voice suddenly said from behind Locke, and all whirled around.

A man of about the height of a Spartan appeared, in orange, faded green and brown combat gear, and a helmet with an oversized orange visor decloaked. Locke immediately recognized the voice.

Viper.

"Your tactics during battles got just as many of our people killed as the Covenant did." the R.I.F rifleman answered.

"I did what was necessary to protect the UNSC!" Levitsky almost shouted angrily. "As I am forced to do yet again!"

With that, with practiced ease and surprising speed, Levitsky grabbed the sidearm from one of the marines standing guard next to the table. Viper, in response, rolled aside and opened fire on the Spartans with a Plasma Rifle, forcing them to find cover of their own behind two of the consoles. Viper tossed a FlashBang into the room, blinding many people as it went off, including Levitsky. Viper used the opportunity to deal with the marines that had escorted Locke. He dropped the Plasma Rifle, and got out a pair of Combat Knives. Since he already was close enough to attack, he immediately sliced one across the arm, and stabbed a second in the hand before knocking both out. The third he kicked into a nearby pillar, and he collapsed into unconsciousness. The fourth he grabbed by the throat, while he whirled one of the knives into the fifth's knee. He then dropped the one he held by the throat, and kicked it into number six.

Davis recovered first, getting out of cover and firing on the soldier. Viper was this time the one forced into cover behind the door. But not before he threw his other knife into the room. It missed Locke by a few inches, and Locke heard a scream as it hit someone behind him. He didn't stop to check who was hit; that could come later. Instead, he followed Viper out of the room, and tried to force him further back. As he rounded the corner, however, he was instantly met by a rain of bullets, as Viper in turn tried to force Locke back into the bridge. As Locke was forced back into the bridge as his shields drained, he heard Viper call for help.

"Slone, this is Viper. I'm in need of backup."

"You're cut off from us, Viper." the woman from earlier replied. "We're still busy with the rest of those tossers from the hangar, and we're already down to one Titan. Like it or not, you're on your own."

There was a short silence, as Davis came back out of cover and rained suppressive fire on Viper's position.

"I can't reach Levitsky on my own, Slone." Viper said calmly, as he threw a grenade down the hallway to force them into cover. "Without backup, the mission is a failure."

"Then pull out, Viper. You're one of the best of us. No use wasting you for a bloody butcher of an admiral. Let the UNSC take out its own."

Locke moved up from his position as soon as the grenade went off, determined to stop Viper before he escaped. But by the time the R.I.F soldier was in sight, he was already halfway down the corridor, heading for the executive escape pod bay for bridge personnel. At least he had to be going there. The only other thing down that corridor was a massive Atrium which had been exposed to vacuum from a MAC hit during the first salvo Infinity received.

Locke ran after him, Davis staying behind to keep the bridge secure. Locke had to admit that Viper was fast: despite Locke's augmentations he gained little ground on the soldier. And any he gained he lost again when Viper threw a grenade after himself or fired a few rounds after himself, forcing Locke to momentarily take cover, or dodge to the side.

They arrived at the top floor of the Atrium in short order, the rest of the ship locked down to keep the rest of the crew away from areas with no oxygen or pressure. Viper hacked open the door with something he'd pulled out of his jacket, and jumped down from the balcony, landing in the center of the room. Locke jumped after him, landing on his feet and immediately aiming his Battle Rifle at the soldier, who was facing the battle around the ship through the massive window of the atrium itself.

"It's over." Locke declared. "You've lost."

Viper turned to Locke, and from his stance Locke guessed he was smirking.

"You can keep your Admiral, Spartan. We can get what we want another way."

Locke was about to retort to that, when he briefly glanced behind the soldier in worry. And he immediately saw why the man never ran towards the escape pods.

This Atrium was his extraction point. And Viper's Titan was flying straight towards the window, and about to impact it head-on.

"Goodbye." Viper goaded. Locke immediately fired on Viper, but it was too late: with a punch, the massive exo-suit broke the window, and with the depressurization, the soldier flew backwards. The Titan caught the soldier, and its chest opened up, some sort of cockpit visible inside. Viper jumped in as soon as it opened, and closed as soon as the soldier had taken a seat. Before Locke could recover from the sudden depressurization, it flew off, out into space and likely to rejoin its brethren in heading back to the R.I.F ships. The massive emergency bulkhead close dover the hole where the window had been, to prevent the escape of more oxygen.

"Osiris, Palmer, Davis, this is Locke." he announced. "Viper got away. What's your status?"

"The others got away too, boss." Tanaka reported. "Stole an albatross under our noses and used it to haul themselves and their big-ass robot out of there after that call from Viper."

"Hangar is clear." Commander Palmer told Locke. "We sealed off the hangar after the third boarding party, and all survivors are dead or captured."

"Davis here. Bridge is secure, as is Levitsky." the Spartan still sounded worried to Locke. "But Del Rio's dead. Viper's last knife pierced his throat. Choked to death on his own blood, Sir."

"Goddammit." Locke let out a rare curse. They had a captive admiral bound to make stupid mistakes, a dead captain, his incompetence aside, and an XO who had little experience in commanding the entire ship on his own.

Still, it was the best they had at the moment. It would have to do. He headed back to the bridge, and hoped Hood would be as understanding of the situation as Locke hoped he would be.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

They kicked the door in, and immediately entered the Cargo bay. John could immediately see it was a mess: Cargo crates the size of shipping containers were strewn around the bay in a vague maze-like pattern, with walls reaching up to half the height of the chamber. Catwalks scattered around the bay, likely to help service the cargo cranes, were crawling with the Brutes.

"Up there." Cortana said weakly, and he looked up. A Brute, larger and more heavily armed and armored than the others, was standing in front of a group of Chieftains, giving orders and directing them to new objectives. Instead of the usual Gravity hammer, however, this one wielded a massive Plasma Mace.

"Atriox." Kalmiya supplied from Kelly's helmet. "Covenant seditionist and pirate, expelled for illegal arms trade. If anyone's in charge of those Brutes, it's gotta be him."

So they had found the pirate's den. And their leader on top of that. If they could kill Atriox, it would disorganize the remainder of the pirates, making them easier to kill.

If they could get at him, that is.

"Heads up." Kelly said, pointing to the left of the hangar. "The Brutes have hostages."

He looked in the direction indicated, and cursed: The Brutes had indeed taken about a dozen hostages, using them for entertainment as they kicked a few around and had them fight each other. By the looks of their uniforms they seemed to be whats left of the Engineering crew.

To his surprise, he started to hear something on his com again, beyond the Static. By the accent it seemed to be Brute communications.

"Our spy has done an excellent job sabotaging the ship, I'm not denying that." A leader was saying. Clearly, this was Atriox' briefing. "But what do we do with her once we've finished off the remaining crew?"

"Kill them all, of course. The spy included."

The others howled in agreement, and the Chieftains scattered, likely to hunt the remaining humans.

"What are your orders?" Kelly asked. "Hunt down Atriox, or rescue the hostages?"

Atriox could wait for the moment. With the lockdown of the various decks on the ship, he wasn't going anywhere at the moment. The hostages, however, were in more immediate danger.  
"Head for the hostages. We'll-"

He was cut off, as something exploded in front of them. From the flames, he saw Sam run out, closely followed by a second woman. Clearly, she was the Cyborg the Brutes so obviously feared.

Atriox had seen it too, as he readied his Mace and jumped down, landing close to them between the cargo crates.  
"We split up." He amended. "I'll rescue the hostages, you help Sam and his newfound friend. As soon as the hostages are safe, I'll come back to help."

Kelly nodded, as she jumped down on the cargo crate below their platform. He instead followed the catwalks, and ran along them until he was close enough to see the fearful faces of the hostages.

He slowed his pace until he was tiptoeing to a catwalk above the hostages. To his benefit, the section the twelve hostages and ten Brutes were in was entirely walled off by the Crates. There was no escape for the Brutes. The only visible way out was a small corridor blocked off by a single crate. By the looks of the scenery there it seemed the hostages had been herded into that area, before the Brutes had locked them in and trapped them.

He grabbed the Forerunner rifle he'd scavenged earlier, and aimed for the farthest of the ten, a scout guarding the perimeter.

To his benefit, while the round was lit, it was silent as it entered the Brute's brain, and the Brute silently disintegrated into orange bits. Fred's report on the Forerunner weapons had been correct. That left nine unaware Brutes.

He briefly looked over the remaining ones. Three were toying with the hostages, while six were eating something. John didn't need to look to realized in an appalling way it was a thirteenth human. He jumped down, landing silently behind one of those toying with the humans.

He jumped up again and snapped its neck. Its fall, however, didn't go unnoticed. The other two immediately turned to him, snarls on their faces as they dropped their human hostages. A big mistake, as there was nothing holding him back now from killing them. He shot both of them in the head.

This drew the attention of the remaining six, but now the hostages had more room. They all immediately fled to the walls of the containers. The Brutes carried a pair of Maulers, a pair of Spikers, and a pair of Brute Plasma Rifles. Not heavy weaponry, but still deadly in these confines.

He rolled to the side as the Brutes opened fire, their barrage missing him. To his fortune, the shots from the Forerunner Light Rifle had no trouble piercing their armor. He only had to fire two times to kill each Brute. He was down to three Brutes...

When from above, Promethean Knights jumped in.  
"Blast." Cortana said. "Promethean Knights swarming from all directions."

Indeed, that was bad luck. But for the moment, the focused on the far more numerous Brute forces. He gestured for the engineers to join him, and he guided them to the container that blocked their exit. He put the rifle on his back, and lifted it. It wasn't light at all, and he suspected even Sam would have trouble lifting it. But he got it high enough that the Engineers could flee through the hole underneath. One was brave enough to briefly go back and grab one of the Plasma rifles before going through. After they all were through, he heaved it upwards, where it briefly stayed before toppling back down. He used the time it took for it to topple down to run through the opening. By the time he was through it crashed back down, blocking the way once again.

The hostages didn't need prompting: They ran back the way they came, the Chief and the single armed Engineer covering them. For the moment, however, they didn't encounter more Brutes. But in the distance, he heard more dying screams of Brutes, as well as the sound of more Prometheans attacking. For once, he found he wanted to thank the Didact: his Promethean Knights were keeping the Brutes occupied.

At last they found a normal door, out of the cargo bay area. And as his luck would have it, it wasn't shielded. Either the Brutes had forgotten it, or the Promethean Knights had already passed through here and taken it out. Either way, the Engineers had a way out. It was still locked, and by the despondent looks on most of them, none of them had the clearance to open said door.

But since he was a Spartan, he didn't need clearance.

He was about to charge towards it and ram his way through it, when the door dented _his_ way. He paused, and he and the Engineer raised their weapons at it.

Turned out it wasn't needed. The door broke open, and out streamed not only the Arbiter and Saber Team, but UNSC Marines and ODST's, not to mention another Spartan he hadn't encountered before and a Elite Field-Marshal whose armor was modified to cover his entire face as well.

"Arbiter." He greeted, drawing the attention of most of them. While the Arbiter stopped and greeted him, the Marines and ODST's all stopped and stared at him. Clearly, they couldn't believe he had survived.

"Master Chief." the Arbiter greeted. "Good to see you're still alive."

"That's a matter of opinion." The modulated voice of the Field-Marshal said. "Those Knights are friends of yours?"

"Wouldn't go that far." Cortana commented. "Who are you?"

The Elite pressed a button on the side of his helmet, and the armor around his helmet slowly came away piece-by-piece. Revealing the face of Fol Katarn.

"Hello there." he simply said, though he was glad one of his allies had survived. The Field-Marshal bowed briefly, before the armor came back together, covering his face again.

"We're at your command, Chief." the unknown Spartan said, and she, and all marines and ODST's in visual sight, saluted.

"I want a squad of marines to take these Engineers to safety." he ordered immediately. "Everyone else: spread out by your designated teams, and clear this bay of hostiles."

They all saluted, and the groups spread out, Saber Team taking the lead with two squads of marines for backup. The Arbiter, Fol and the Spartan stayed with him.

"We spotted the Brute leader engaging another of our Spartans, along with a certain cyborg." he answered. "We're going to take it down."

"Do you have a plan?" Fol asked. "Because that Brute's no pushover."

Behind his helmet, he smirked. "Yes. And this is how it goes."

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

Sam stopped, as the large Brute slammed to the ground in front of them, the Plasma Mace smashing into the floor in front of him. Since it wasn't going to be a fight for long-range by the looks of it, he tossed aside his Minigun and his Rocket Launcher. The Brute withdrew its Mace, before trying to bring it down on him again.

Sam caught it, just below the energized part. It still hit his palm hard enough to slightly hurt him, as the Brute had used a lot of force to bring it down. But he still managed to catch it. The Brute looked surprised by the feat, before snarling, and pulling it back. Sam went with it, and used the momentum to pull himself forward and deliver a punch to the Brute's jaw. The Brute in turn caught his fist, and swung him around, making him hit one of the containers. He grunted, as he connected to it hard, before sliding down. The Brute raised its Mace, trying to finish him off.

Robo was faster. A Grenade impacted against the Brute's back, making it stumble. It whirled around with the mace, but Robo was too far out of range. Instead, the Cyborg quickly loaded and fired a second grenade, which impacted with the Brute's face. To the Brute's credit, he was prepared. He didn't stumble, and was prepared for the force of the blow. But the explosion still hurt, and when the smoke cleared, the Brute had a nasty burn wound across its face. And it was angry. It began to charge, the Mace held high to bring it down once the Brute was in range.

Robo dropped her Grenade launcher, and grabbed her Brute Spiker instead. As soon as the Brute was in range and brought down the Mace, Robo jumped up and landed on the stick of the mace as it landed. She immediately gave a hard kick to the face of the Brute, making it drop the weapon. As soon as it did that, she fired the Mace into its face. It recovered, dodging the shots and tackling the cyborg. Robo rolled with it, and used the momentum of her fall to throw it over her. She grabbed her spiker during her roll, and as she got up, immediately whirled towards the Chieftain, hoping to fire on it as it tried to recover.

Only it was far closer than she wanted it to be, and it batted the Spiker out of her hand. It grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up, intending to break her neck with his strength.

Sam threw the Kukri he still had from Six into the Brute's arm, making it drop Robo in pain, as it tried to rip out the knife, which seemed tiny in comparison to its hand. Robo, in turn, unsheathed two of her own combat knives as she landed on her feet, and slashed at its legs. Sam charged, and tackled the Brute. It didn't fall from the force of it, instead using the momentum to lift Sam over him and throw him aside. Sam landed in a roll, and as he got up, delivered a kick to the Brute's back. The Brute blocked it by catching the Cyborg's slash, and tossed her into the path of the kick. She was sent to the ground, and for a moment didn't get up. It smirked at Sam, as it grabbed its mace.

And was shot in the back, a shotgun blast echoing across the entire bay. The Brute's armor clearly absorbed the shot, but it still whirled around, and Sam peeked behind it as well, curious for his new help.

Kelly immediately fired another shot at the Brute, this one landing in the chest. The brute immediately swung the mace at her, and while Kelly herself was out of range, her Shotgun was knocked out of her hands, sliding under one of the containers and out of reach. She immediately grabbed her Plasma Rifles and fired away at the Brute.

Sam used its momentary distraction to tackle it again, this time from behind. This time, as it was already charging forwards with the mace, it did topple. Sam immediately jumped onto it, intending to pummel it into submission. But the massive Brute simply kicked him off, into a second container. This time the kick was powerful enough to leave a large dent in the container, and he was in enough pain as he landed that he didn't immediately get up.

The Brute jumped to his feet as well, and as it tried to turn to Kelly, said Spartan slid between his legs. She fired upwards as she did so, hitting it in the face and chest multiple times. The Brute reeled backwards in pain every time it was hit, and after Kelly stopped firing it toppled again briefly. But as Kelly calmly got up to check if it was dead, it picked up the mace and threw it at her. She narrowly dodged it, but in her momentary distraction it grabbed her arms and swung her into another container, making her land just beside Sam.

"Yes, little Demons." it goaded. "Cower before the mighty Atriox."

It picked up its Mace, intending to bring it down on them. But as it brought it up, it noticed something odd. Namely, an odd protrusion on the handle that hadn't been there before. It barely had enough time to identify it as a Spike Grenade before said grenade went off. It covered the entire Brute in shrapnel, making it howl in pain and cover its face briefly.

In that time Robo jumped atop its back, and inserted her knives into its back, using them as handholds as she held on to the swaying Brute. The Brute tried to reach back and throw her off, but Robo merely shot its hand with her Spiker in response. Then, she inserted a final knife (Six' Kukri, Sam briefly noted) into the Brute's face, slicing across his right eye and into the lower jaw. It howled in agony, before jumping up, and slamming his back down onto the ground.

Robo was pinned underneath the thing as it landed, and Sam winced as he saw the Brute tremble as it landed. As it got up, Robo still lay there, her helmet optic cracked.

But Robo, incredibly, got up as well. She rolled both her arms and neck a bit, before slamming her hand and fist together.

"That the best you got, Atriox?" her robotic voice goaded, slightly distorted due to the damage to her helmet. "I'm not impressed."

Despite his astonishment the woman was still alive, Atriox snarled and started berserking towards her. Robo merely stepped aside as the Brute missed her.

Revealing the crate of mines she'd opened up, and towards which the Brute was now charging at full speed. The Brute widened its eyes and tried to skid to a stop. But Robo merely picked up Sam's rocket launcher, and hit the Brute in the back. It flew forwards from the blast, landing in the middle of the mines. Most went off from the impact, and the brute was covered in a fiery explosion.

Calmly, Sam and Kelly got up, both finally recovered from the pain. Robo didn't turn to help them, merely continuing to stare at the fire and the explosions of the landmines.

And with good reason. A second later, Atriox emerged from the flames. Battered and covered in sooth, but still standing and ready to fight.

"Well played, Cyborg." Atriox grunted. "But it takes more than landmines to kill me."

"Good." Robo goaded. "Then this fight won't be such a disappointment."

Atriox snarled, but instead of charging, he picked up one of few unexploded landmines, and threw it at Robo. Robo jumped up, and as the mine exploded, used the concussive force of the explosion to propel herself forwards, firing a second rocket at Atriox. The Brute jumped out of the way, and as the rocket impacted against the remaining mines, the explosion sent Robo flying in the opposite direction. The Cyborg landed on the container beneath her, and looked around. But Atriox had used the opportunity to disappear from the Cyborg's sight, hiding behind another container.

But Sam saw it hadn't counted on the other two Spartans in the room still seeing it. Kelly jumped into its face from the side, giving it a hard-enough kick to push it into the open. Sam, in turn pushed it into the side of another container. Sam, in turn pummeled its face repeatedly, breaking its armor and helmet. The Brute grabbed his shoulders and flung him away. But this only gave the Cyborg an opportunity to fire on Atriox with a third rocket. It hit Atriox in the back, and he collapsed against the container, the contents of said container too heavy to make either fly backwards.

Then Atriox got up, to Sam's astonishment. He snarled, and made three steps towards Sam. The Cyborg intervened, firing a last rocket at a nearby pile of containers, which immediately started to collapse upon impact. Sam dove out of the way to another container, and hid in there for a few moments, ignoring the thunderous bangs as container after container hit his cover. After a few moments, he saw Kelly scramble inside as well, narrowly dodging a container that came crashing towards her.

After three more seconds of waiting, the bangs stopped. Sam waited three more seconds to ensure one wouldn't fall at the last moment, and then came back out. As he surveyed the area, the place was a mess. The containers were spread around the area, most leaning on one another, and more torn in half as others had crashed through them, their tonnage too heavy for the containers below to bear. Frankly, they were lucky theirs hadn't been hit by one. They'd been dead on the spot.

His Rocket Launcher lay discarded near a container pile larger than the others, which lay in the middle of the clearing they'd previously fought Atriox in... and which divided the area in half. And since their was no sign of either Atriox or the Cyborg, that could mean one of two things: either the two were buried alive under the containers, or they were trapped into a death match on the other side. And since the containers on the pile were too steep to climb, and there being too little handholds that could bear the weight of a Spartan, they were effectively cut off.

"Fuck." Kelly swore, realizing the same thing.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

Atriox grunted, as he got up. Blast, that fight with the Demons had been tough. Far tougher than he had imagined it could ever be. Not to mention that he had suffered several injuries. His lower jaw and right eye cut in two by a knife, shrapnel embedded inside the entire front of his body, numerous bruises from the knocks of the explosions, his face burned from a hit by a grenade launcher, to name a few things.

But he had the advantage at the moment. His armor was intact, and the two Spartans had no idea he was still alive. He made a brief check of his weapons. His Spikers and Brute Shot had been lost during the scramble to avoid the containers, but his Spike Grenades were still on his belt and usable. He made a brief search for his Plasma Mace. But that search proved futile. While he did find the weapon, it had been torn in half by a crashing container, the stick separated from the ball of spikes. To make it worse, the cables connecting the mace's energy spikes to the power source had been damaged as well. While it hadn't triggered an overload, it prevented activation. Repair would take hours he didn't have, so unless he intended to use the stick as a spear, his Mace was useless.

Then he smirked. Beside the stick of the mace lay the shotgun one of the Spartans had used. Miraculously, it was undamaged. And in the close confines the collapse of the container pile had created, it would be deadly to the Spartans. He picked it up, checked to see how well it was loaded, and looked around.

He briefly eyed the barricade wall. While the barricade would be too steep for the Spartans, it would be scalable for the large Brute. He smirked, as he made his way over there to climb it.

And grunted as the human-machine merging kicked him in the side, having used the chain of one of the cranes to quickly swing over to him. The very force of it made him fall down onto his stomach, and he dropped the Shotgun. It skidded back under a second container, out of reach for either combatant. He only managed to get up to his knees before he received a roundhouse kick to the face, bringing him back down again. He kicked a wayward barrel in the cyborg's direction. It barely hit her side, only making her stumble briefly. But it bought him the time to get up.

He eyed the (to him at least) diminutive woman with machine covering most of her body, and smirked. "What are you? An Unggoy?" he taunted. "Bring it, Sharquoi-bait."

The woman immediately started her assault on him, launching a flurry of strikes with both her hands and her feet. He immediately blocked most of them, and let the body armor absorb the rest. During their earlier fight, he had noticed that the woman had a key advantage on him: she was much faster than him, far more agile, and had vastly superior reflexes. But this was evened out by his own sheer strength and endurance. During the flurry, he delivered a handful of blows. And while the woman blocked all of his blows, they all made her stumble backwards. She recovered long before he could take advantage of it, but it allowed him to take back all ground that she gained on him.

After a moment, he finally found an opening in the form of an arm pulled back too slowly. He immediately grabbed it, and used it to pull her forwards. As soon as she was close enough, he grabbed her waist, lifted her up until she was held high above him, before throwing her down on the ground hard. He tried to stomp on her head, but like usual she rolled out of the way in time, scrambling up as she did. He tried to kick at her in frustration, but she jumped aside, and he kicked a container instead. The part he hit gave way beneath him, and it and the plates around it crumbled with it. He quickly pulled his leg out, and whirled on the woman, seeing her boot come towards him. He caught her foot, and threw her into the wall.

As she got up, she backed away, below a secondary platform meant to operate the crane chain she'd used earlier. He followed her, cursing as he briefly hit his head on the platform. The Cyborg used that moment to grab the grating of the platform above, and used it to suspend herself as she delivered a hard kick to the face. He stumbled backwards, stunned as she hit the wound she had made when cutting his face apart. But before he could recover, she delivered three more kicks to his head, all hitting wounds from earlier and continuing to stun him.

It took him a few moments to realize it, but he did see her play: due to the low height of the platform, and him having to slightly hunch in order to fit under, he was at a disadvantage here. His size worked against him due to the small confines. The woman, on the contrary, was in her element. The platform was high enough that even when at her full height she wouldn't hit her head, but low enough that she could easily grab small pipes or supports running along it to suspend herself in the air and deliver stunning blows to him. Not to mention, she could easily punch him into the low-hanging supports and pipes to hurt him even more.

He finally managed to clear his head after the Cyborg gave a massive kick to his face, which made him stumble backwards far enough to hit the back of his head even harder against one of the supports. He shook his head clear, only to find the woman's legs wrapped around his head in a chokehold, she herself again suspended by her arms and the supports above. He smirked, as he realized how he could use this to his advantage. "My turn."

He wrenched her legs loose, and grabbed her waist and right shoulder, turning her around over him as he did. Then, he smacked her back hard against the supports she had once used to suspend herself. And again. And again. And again.

She looked battered and beaten by the time he stopped, and when he dropped her, she didn't get up on her own. He grabbed her arm, and threw her out from underneath the platform. She rolled to a stop aside one of the containers. He grabbed the stick of his old mace, and decided to put his original idea of using it as a spear to practice. He stalked over to her, and held it high once he reached her, intending to pierce her heart with it.

And suddenly felt a burning, searing pain in his stomach, and he winced. One which was impossible to ignore. He glanced down. The two tips of an Orange Energy Sword emerged from his stomach. Just as suddenly as they had appeared, they pulled back out. He slowly turned around. And his jaw dropped as soon as he did. Standing behind him, wielding the odd, orange energy sword, was a Sangheili everyone believed was dead.

"Arbiter?" he grunted.

"Atriox." a second Elite returned, as it removed the face mask of its Field Marshal armor. "Scourge of the Doisac Desert Plains. Slayer of the Prophet of Objection. Now nothing more than a lowly pirate." he shook his head. "Such a waste."

Atriox tried to snarl, but he knew it was a wasted effort. The wound had cut across and through several vital organs, and he would be suffering from many internal bleedings. And even he knew he wouldn't survive without major surgery.

Instead, he decided to delete all files in his implants, and had them set to fry themselves the moment his heart stopped beating. And his involvement with the Legion and Cerberus would be taken to his grave.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, R.I.F flagship Sentinel, Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

Graves grimaced, as he looked at the battlefield another time, waiting as Spyglass loaded the next volley of MAC rounds into the cannons. The arrival of Hood to reign in Levitsky was not unexpected. In fact, Graves had expected Hood to be right on Levitsky's tail, not to be fifteen minutes late. Not to mention that Osiris had prevented them from acquiring Levitsky for interrogation. A shame, really. He and Mac had looked forward to having a chat with the brutal Admiral.

At the moment, while Graves' small fleet had the UNSC outgunned, the UNSC had him outnumbered in turn, unless he counted the deserters. Over the course of the battle, hundreds of ships had joined the fleet, helping Graves guard the civilians that wanted to leave the UNSC. But Graves would be damned if they joined the fight. He did all this so others wouldn't have to experience the cruelty of ONI again. And if they were to die in this battle, it would be because of that.

And because of him. After all, he had called them here. He had called people here to desert the UNSC. Because of his actions, this battle was underway. And the blood of any deaths, be it one of his own or one of the UNSC, would be on his hands. The last war had already cost millions of human lives. He would be damned if he added a million more to the number.

"Sir, all MAC guns are loaded." Spyglass reported. "The Apex Predators have made it to the Papa Dragon, and all other ships have made it to the rendezvous point."

"How many in total?" Graves asked, though he was worried about the answer. While he appreciated so many people came out to follow him, if there would come many more it would be too many for him to defend. Any stray shot could already hit a ship as it was. Any more and he would be undermanned.  
"At current estimates, we have 3,5 million civilians, 4 millions troopers and nearly 549 ships present, only a third of which are civilian." Spyglass answered dutifully.

Graves' heart skipped a beat. That was over half the UNSC reserve fleet, including those that were supposed to still be in production at the UNSC shipyards. If these numbers were correct, they could have control over nearly every human planet in existence if they put their minds to it.

But no. The Necromorphs at Aegis VII had already spread too far, infecting over half the Sovereign Colonies. If they didn't focus on that, the entire galaxy could fall to its corruptive and parasitic influence.

"Sir, incoming Slipspace signatures, from different locations. Twenty in total, on the other side of Scorpio VI, and fifteen more, in the middle of the deserter formation." Spyglass reported, and he shrunk the view of the battlefield until it encompassed the entire system. On the other side of the planet, twenty ships indeed emerged from Slipspace, and a moment later another appeared in the middle of the formation. And Graves immediately recognized the ships. He had fought them himself numerous times, when they had tried to absorb the R.I.F into their own movement.

United Rebel Front vessels on the other side of the planet, and New Colonial Alliance ships in the middle of the other deserters. The 'official' Insurrection had decided to join in.

"Raise the leaders of both groups." Graves ordered. If they decided to interfere here, he would finish them. He wouldn't care about image at that moment: if they killed so much as one person he had promised safety to, they would have no safe place to hide from his wrath. As expected, both Admiral Daniel Clayton and Admiral Martha Ingridson appeared on his display. As usual, Clayton wasted no formalities on him.  
"Impressive display, Graves. You just did what people like Ingridson and me can only dream of: making half the UNSC desert merely on one man's word."

"That's no small feat." Ingridson added. "And combined with the impressive fleet and vast armies and infinite resources you already possess, it makes you the most powerful human in this galaxy."

"Your point being?" Graves asked bluntly. He didn't mean to be rude, but he still had a battle to fight. "As much as I enjoy hearing your compliments, I'm in the middle of a battle. Make it quick, if you would be so kind."

Clayton huffed in indignity, but continued. "We'd like to join you. And not like our usual annexing, but to actually become members of your Rebel Insurrectionist Front."

"You've shown yourself to be better than the rest of us. And with this large an addition to your arsenal, what hope do we stand against you? No sense fighting the inevitable."

He didn't believe what he was hearing. The other insurrectionists had always been jealous of how successful he had been at getting others to join him. True, that was because unlike others he didn't divert from the standard UNSC rules in any large way. He merely offered an UNSC without ONI screwing it up. But the others had always tried to subvert him. Why join him now?

But he had to put his usual distrust of others aside for the moment. They were willing to join him, to end the usual strive between the insurrectionists. If they joined him, all the other movements would do so as well, being no match for Graves' newfound power.

"An unexpected surprise." Graves finally said. "But a welcome one. Form up with the rest of the deserters, and we'll cover you."

Clayton and Ingridson both nodded, and their images disappeared as they coordinated their fleets. Graves turned away, to the UNSC fleet assaulting him. Over forty ships, ranging from mere frigates to Infinity herself, as damaged as she was because of the crossfire she received from him and Mac. A tough battle to fight, even for the ten Sentinel-class vessels Graves had at his command.  
"Inform Mac we rejoin formation with the rest of our fleet. We can't afford even one hit on the deserters."

"Yes, Sir." Spyglass said, as the Sentinel jumped into Slipspace a moment later, only to reappear the same instant in formation with the rest of his ships. Exactly where he belonged.

Between the people of the UNSC, and the people who would abuse them.

He smiled, reassured of where he was supposed to be, and prepared to resume the battle.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Wreckage of Strident-class Frigate, Designate 'Hunter's Pride'_

John stepped over to the Cyborg, helping her up as the Arbiter and Fol confronted Atriox. The Spartan-III, Rosenda, was headed for Kelly and Sam with their weapons, having recovered Sam's minigun and Kelly's shotgun on the way. They had witnessed the fight between Atriox and the Spartans and Cyborg from a distance, having tried to find a way to get close without risking getting lost in the maze of containers. In the end, they were forced to resort to using the Catwalks again, taking down any Brutes Atriox had called to his aid in the meantime.

In the end, they had only arrived after the Cyborg had managed to separate herself and the Brute from the Spartans. But in doing so, she had made it its sole target it could get at, and that had made her more vulnerable than she likely was prepared to admit. The Arbiter had stepped in as soon as the Brute had gotten the upper hand, and Fol was ready to provide him with back-up. Rosenda had recovered the weapons tossed aside, and was bringing them back to the owners.

"Blue Lead, this is Heracles Two. I've made it to the Spartans." said Spartan announced over his helmet com.

 _Speak of the devil._

He hit his com. "Copy, Heracles two. Can you make your way back here?"

"Negative. The barricade's too steep on this side. Can you guys come to us?"

"Just a moment." the Cyborg called, as soon as she was up. Then, from the cracked container she had landed beside, she grabbed a Grenade Launcher. She fired at the center of the barricade, and the explosion blasted a few of the containers to the sides. It created little space, barely enough to let a Warthog, or even a Mongoose pass through. But it was enough for the three Spartans.

Barely.

Rosenda and Kelly passed through with no problem, but Sam had to toss his Minigun and Rocket Launcher through, and he still had to twist and turn to fit through the hole. But they all passed through.

And on top of the barricade, a portal opened, and two bodies of the Warden Eternal appeared there, swords held at their sides.  
He immediately turned to engage them, letting the Arbiter and Fol deal with Atriox. The Wardens immediately jumped down, and one ran to the left, to Sam, Kelly and Rosenda, while a second ran towards them.

He raised the Light Rifle, and opened fire on the warden's head. It was covered nearly entirely in seamless hardlight armor parts. Only the face seemed vulnerable at first glance, so instinctively he opened fire on that part.

Before it could reach him, however, the Cyborg jumped between them, holding a strange forerunner object. It vaguely shared the appearance to a Halo Activation Index when it came to approximate shape and size. But instead of the usual green it was bright orange on one side, and blue on the other. Also, it had a central button, over which the Cyborg hovered her thumb as she pointed it at the Warden like a TV-remote.

"Back." the Cyborg simply warned. When the Warden unsurprisingly ignored it, the Cyborg pressed the button. The Warden, to John's shock, stopped his attack immediately, and started a slight bow towards the Cyborg.

"M'lady." it simply stated, its tone far less loud and hostile than before. It also lacked the usual echo and resonance. The color of the lights running across it slowly turned from bright orange to blue.

"Warden, attack your rogue body." the Cyborg ordered. The blue Warden immediately complied, and ran towards the orange Warden, which had almost reached the others. The orange Warden turned around in surprise, before the blue one struck across its face with the sword. The orange body cried out in pain, and the parts of its head briefly came apart. The blue Warden took the opportunity to kick the orange one aside, and physically imposed itself between the Spartans and the Warden.

" _ **BIG MISTAKE!**_ " the Orange Warden yelled as it recovered, and send an orange beam at the Blue Warden. Its color immediately returned to the original orange, and it resumed its aggressive stance towards the Spartans.

" _ **Where is your hero now?**_ " the Warden challenged them.

John simply responded by raising his rifle. In response, all around them (as he and the others had planned on the way) dozens of UNSC fireteams revealed themselves atop the surrounding containers and on the catwalks, their weapons all aimed at the two Wardens. Seconds afterwards, teleporting in from elsewhere, more Promethean Knights appeared. But these were blue, allied with Cortana. They took defensive positions in formation with the UNSC soldiers.

And led by Sergeant Johnson and the Monitor, who had also teleported in.

"Right here, tin can." Johnson responded. "Everyone, open fire."

The orbital drop shock troopers, accompanied by marines, all opened fire, as did the Monitor and the allied Promethean Knights. The Wardens tried to deflect the shots, but there were simply too many shots. The first warden was simply overwhelmed by the number of shots, and his armor melted away from the fire of the Promethean Knights. His internal systems, in turn, were shot to hell by the fire of the UNSC forces, and after a moment, like in the core of Sarcophagus, the Warden's body disintegrated and disappeared into a portal. The other made a swing at one of the container with soldiers on top of it, but they all managed to either jump aside or off the container. The Warden was then attacked from behind by the Arbiter, who stabbed a certain part of the Warden with his modified Energy Sword. Immediately, before the Warden himself was ready for one, a portal appeared in the middle of his body. Taken by surprise by the attack, the Warden disappeared into the portal... leaving his limbs and head behind.

John lowered his rifle for a moment, all immediate threats eliminated. The allied Promethean Knights, along with the Monitor, teleported away, back to the fallback point. The marine and ODST fireteams all spread out, to conquer the remaining Brutes and hostile Promethean Knights. Without either Atriox or the Warden Eternal to guide their respective groups, they would be disorganized and easily defeated. It would be a simple matter of hunting them down and capturing or killing them all. Considering the lack of prison cells in the forerunner city and the fact the Brutes were too strong to be contained in UNSC brigs, it would likely end up being the latter.

A loud crash came from above, and he looked up. Fred, Linda and the two Spartan-III's accompanying them burst through the nearby doors, their weapons raised. They lowered their weapons immediately, however, as they noticed John had the immediate area cleared, and that it was under heavy guard.

"Are we late?" Fred asked, as he jumped down from the catwalk above, landing just a little bit from the main group. Linda landed a moment afterwards, while Tom and Lucy moved to join the ODST's and marines in clearing the bay.

"Let me guess." Sam quipped. "Traffic?"

"No. Drive-through." Linda answered in the same tone.

John shook his head, then turned to Fred as his unofficial second-in-command approached. "Did you find the captain?"

"Yes. It's Captain Miranda Keyes, by the way."

"Miranda?" Johnson asked in a shocked manner. "Wasn't she paralyzed?"

"Did you really think a war injury could keep me down, Sergeant Major?" said captain asked over the intercom. "Not a chance."

Johnson, surprised the captain actually heard him talk in such a manner, looked down sheepishly. From a nearby terminal, a holographic system activated, and Keyes was displayed, standing with her hands behind her back in the at-ease position most officers took in such circumstances.

"Master Chief." she said knowingly. "I should have known you were alive when I heard the Brutes were starting to lose large amounts of troops in that area. I can assume the Arbiter is here as well?"

The Arbiter simply responded by stepping into view.

"Good." Keyes said. "Please report to the Bridge for briefing. That includes all of you, including Blue Team and Operative X. I have questions for the latter."

"Looking forward to it, Captain." the cyborg said sarcastically, as she retrieved her Grenade Launcher.

"Good. Zeus will open the appropriate doors. See you soon, Spartans." the hologram disappeared.

John nodded to all of them. "You heard her. Gather up, and lets head for the bridge." they all nodded, Rosenda, Johnson, and Linda taking the lead with Sam, while Fol and Fred walked alongside the Chief. The Cyborg came next, and Kelly and the Arbiter separately hung back.

"Chief." Fol warned. "Keyes briefed Fred already, but you should know as well. There may be a saboteur on board. Shortly after the Cyborg boarded the ship suffered a sensor failure, allowing the Corvettes to approach undetected until it was too late."

"Likely suspects?" he asked. He didn't know the entire crew, so it was a waste speculating who it could be. He would leave that to Fol, Keyes and the others of the ship.

"Operative X is the sole suspect." Fol said immediately. "She was the only one we couldn't precisely pinpoint at the time. She avoided the cameras on board, and she's been acting strangely ever since we found her. She's got to be it."

They walked past where John had sent the Engineers, and he opened the door. The Marines escorting them immediately walked out, and followed the group.

"I heard Atriox talk about a spy they had on the ship." John admitted. "With her shown capabilities she could be it."

"Doesn't make sense." Fred dismissed. "She helped kill Atriox, not to mention she slaughtered quite a number of the Brutes present."

"An attempt to cover her tracks?" Cortana suggested, followed by a slight gasp of joy at the accomplishment of coming up with the suggestion. It was far more than could be expected of AI's in Diagnostic mode.

"Only way to know for sure is to confront her." John said. "And since Keyes neglected to mention _when_ she wanted us to be on the Bridge..."

"Why not right now?" Fred finished.

After a moment, Fol nodded. "I see little reason not to. Give me a moment, and I'll inform Zeus."

"Fol's AI buddy who took over when the ship's original AI overloaded." Fred explained before John could ask. Fol hung back a bit, his helmet briefly fully enclosing again, before rejoining them.

"Zeus and Keyes give us a go. She left it to us how to handle this." Fol relayed.

Good. That gave them breathing room. He might have said Keyes never mentioned when she expected them, but he hated surprising his superiors in a bad way... and being late for no significant reason fell among those ways. It was a relief to know he actually had permission this time.

Still, that left how to begin. He had little experience in actual interrogations on someone whose guilt wasn't proven. Granted, she had little to prove her innocence and she was the sole suspect, but the evidence was circumstantial, and their case against her wasn't all that strong. In the end, he decided to simply ask her where she had been at the time of the attack. Zeus would be listening in from the ship's security cameras and other various nearby systems, and would be able to confirm or deny her story. If it was the truth, she could be ruled out. If it was a lie, while it didn't prove her guilt, it would add to the evidence against her.

He suddenly stopped, and turned around. The rest of the group came at a stop with him, and turned to see what was going on. "Operative X, where were you at the time of the crash?"

"Hangar deck, trying to hide the space battle out." the Cyborg answered after a moment. "Didn't have too fond a memory of those Brutes, and didn't fancy seeing them again." she eyed her robotic arm at that, before returning her gaze to the Spartan. "Why?"

"Before the corvettes engaged the ship, the sensor systems suffered a suspicious and extremely inconvenient failure." Fol explained. "As a matter of fact, your word is the only warning we had at that time. And the timing between your arrival on board and the failure is too coincidental to ignore."

"So you suspect I'm the saboteur." the Cyborg finished, letting out a sigh. "No matter where I go, I'm the scapegoat, aren't I?"

"Do you have anything to prove your innocence?" the only engineer with a weapon asked. "Because if you don't, then I say we should lock you up."

"Because of circumstantial evidence I supported the Brutes?" Operative X retorted. "What would I have to gain from that? I had already been stranded for who knows how long. Why would I sabotage my only ride off that hellhole, miss?"

While the engineer and cyborg continued to argue, Fol send the Chief a single message via text, which was displayed at the same place his objective would be. _Zeus can't find her location during the fight, but before and after she was indeed seen disappearing and reappearing on the Hangar deck._

That lend some credit to her story, but it wasn't enough to clear her entirely. He needed more proof. He was about to weigh in on the argument again, as he noticed the others, wordlessly and without his direct order, had already positioned themselves to cover all exits, while the Arbiter had guided the other engineers out of harms way should the Cyborg suddenly attack.

"And where were you during the attack then?" the Cyborg retorted to an argument John had missed. "Because as a matter of fact this is the first time seeing you here. And I had made a brief tour of the ship to check the crew out."

"I'm an Engineer. Where else would I have been if not for my quarters or the engineering deck?"

"She's right." one of the other engineers suddenly said, making the other turn around in surprise. "I don't remember seeing you on the crew list, Zane. And I hadn't seen you before until shortly before the attack. Where were you?"

"I was in the observation deck near engineering, relaxing while off-duty." Zane answered calmly, though John didn't miss how her hand had started shaking.

Fol immediately ignited his Katarn blade, and Rosenda raised her rifle at the Engineer. "Oh, really?" he asked sarcastically. "Then why did Rosenda and I miss you during the attack? Because that's where _we_ had been when the attack started."

The others started to glare at the Engineer revealed to be the saboteur, as she slowly backed to a wall.

Near a wall panel controlling emergency bulkheads. John made to attack her and drive her away from there, but it was too late. She pressed the emergency button, and two bulkheads closed, locking the others out and Fol, John and the Cyborg in with the Engineer. The engineer gave a kick at the Cyborg's stomach.

And John was shocked to see the Cyborg fly into the wall at the speed and force of a moving truck. When she landed, she left a large enough dent that she continued to lay into the wall, unconscious. Fol came at her as well, but she expertly dodged him. John raised his Assault Rifle at her, but the woman threw a circular device at him she'd grabbed from seemingly nowhere. As it impacted with his armor, it stuck. And suddenly, his armor stopped moving. He couldn't pull down the trigger of his rifle, and his arms wouldn't move at his command. He looked down at the device she had thrown onto him, and cursed.

An Armor Inhibitor, meant to shut down his suit's systems. He was paralyzed until it was removed.

He tried to move his arm on his own, but it barely gave way, perhaps only a millimeter. Since Cortana was in no position to remotely override it, and Zeus and Kalmiya were out of immediate reach, he reluctantly relented, waiting until the fight was over and Fol would release him.

Fol made a swipe with his weapons again, but Zane dodged it, firing at Fol with the Brute Plasma Rifle. It didn't down his shields, but it had the effect of Fol covering his face with one of his arms in an instinctive and reflexive action. Zane used that by grabbing his arm with her free hand and kneeing it. Surprisingly, John heard the loud snapping of bone, as well as the snapping of an armor plate, and Fol gave a brief gasp of pain. That was all the sound Fol emitted, but it was enough to let the rogue engineer give a smirk of confidence. She dropped the Plasma Rifle, and before Fol could retaliate against the attack, gave a reverse roundhouse kick to his face, knocking him down. He didn't immediately get up, but she walked over anyway, and grabbed his Katarns. She placed them over his hands, and activated them. They didn't immediately cut his hands apart, but if he moved his wrists an inch, they would be cut, and he would bleed to death. In short, Zane had expertly restrained him.

Before the Engineer could turn to attack him, a loud mechanical roar of anger came from nearby. The Cyborg ran at the Engineer, and as the Engineer turned to the Cyborg, tackled the saboteur. The rebel lifted her knee upwards to block it, but the Cyborg immediately retaliated with a strike at Zane's face. Zane caught it at the Cyborg's robotic lower arm, and gave a strike in return. The Cyborg, in turn caught the fist.

Then laughed, as she partially opened her right fist. Revealing the unpinned concussion Grenade she had inside it during her punch. Zane saw it instantly, and tried to dive away, but it was too late. It exploded in the face of both of them, and they both were blasted away, impacting opposite walls.

Operative X recovered first, and stood tall as the saboteur still was on her hands and knees. "What are you?" the former asked, the voice modulator disguising her voice slightly damaged and giving it a lighter tone.

Zane let out a chuckle, before looking up, blood and sooth covering her face. "They had to test the augmentations of the Spartan-IV's on someone, right?" Zane spitefully returned. "Well, that was lucky old me. Kidnapped at childhood by ONI to become a test subject for the future augmentations."

Shakily, she got up to her feet as well, and stared the Cyborg down. "Well, long story short, decades of testing made my body stronger, faster and more durable than even a Spartan in full armor. But it shattered my mind. And when Atriox offered me an escape and a chance at revenge, I had no reason to refuse."

"So you turned on your own men and women, allowing mongrels to slaughter them?" the Cyborg evenly returned, anger just as evident in her voice as it was in Zane's. "You are just as bad as ONI. And as their latest scapegoat and personal executioner, I know how bad they can be."

Zane snarled at the woman, and ran at her. The Cyborg ran at her too, and as they collided, grabbed Zane's shoulders and gave a hard knee to the stomach. As Zane reeled over from the blow, the Cyborg gave an elbow to the back, making Zane collapse to her hands and knees again. To add insult to injury, she kicked the injured stomach, tossing Zane against one of the bulkheads with a loud bang. As Zane came to a stop near the bottom, and coughed up more than her fair share of blood, the Cyborg grabbed her collar, and pummeled her face with her robotic hand, literally forming an iron fist. And again. And again. Until Zane's face was no longer recognizable underneath all the blood.

"Wat bisto djip sonken, suske." the Cyborg said in some obscure gibberish John couldn't understand. Whatever she said, all anger disappeared from Zane's face. Instead, it was replaced by confusion... and hope?

"Watsei?" Zane returned in the same language, as she was pulled to her knees.

"Ik bin it, dyn suster."

Zane's face immediately became one mixed between joy and sadness.

"Sharon? Wat is der mei dy bard?" Zane asked, as she tried to briefly stroke the Cyborg's face, only to be blocked by the armor of the damaged helmet.

"Itselde as dat der mei dy bard is. Allinne hie ik noch skoftke de yllúzje dat myn tsjinsten frijwillich wienen _._ " the Cyborg returned, her tone mixing the sadness Zane displayed, as she gently pushed the hand away.

"ik fetsje it." Zane said. And for the first time since John had seen her five minutes ago, the permanent frown left her face, replaced by a look of acceptance. "It muoit my (of: it spyt my). As ik witten hie dat jimme al dy jierren noch libben."

"Dat koesto net witte." the Cyborg interrupted, hesitating as she grabbed her Brute Spiker from its holster. "It muoit my ek."

"Ik wit it. " Zane said knowingly."Mar asjebleaft meitsje der mar in ein oan. Ik kin sa net libje."

The Cyborg, from some unknown reason, put the Spiker to Zane's head, and uttered a final phrase in the language that sounded vaguely like a phrase repeated in the last conversation multiple times, It muoit my, and pulled the trigger. The Spikes entered the forehead, and Zane collapsed backwards.

The Cyborg stood there for a moment, before holstering the Spiker again, and moving to Fol. She deactivated the Katarn Energy Swords and handing them to Fol, before moving over to John. She pulled off the Armor inhibitor, and he immediately felt he could move his arms again.

"Thanks." he said in gratitude. "What was all that?"

"Lets just say I had a particular history with this insurrectionist." the Cyborg simply said, as she proceeded to make her way over to the wall panel controlling the bulkheads. "And that it was a good one, and that I hated every moment of putting her down."

She pressed a button, and the bulkheads all unlocked and lifted. From both sides, people came storming in, weapons raised. As soon as they saw Zane laying dead, however, they reluctantly lowered them.

"Does that prove my innocence?" Operative X pointedly asked, as she walked past them, resuming her course to the bridge.

No one had the courage to answer that as they all resumed their walk to the bridge.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Bridge, Punic-class Supercarrier 'Freedom Fighter', Battle Group 'Redemption', En-route to Scorpio VI Asteroid Belt._

Hood sighed, as he looked at the situation again. Infinity was in chaos, both because of the damage she had suffered, and because of her new command structure. Spartans had apprehended Levitsky, and put him in the Brig until he could be court marshaled. Del Rio was dead, a knife having been embedded inside his throat. Lasky, while alive and fit for duty, had not enough experience to lead Infinity in battles this big.

Graves and his followers, which now numbered in nearly six hundred capital ships and an untold number of freighters, had excellent cover behind either Graves' ships or the asteroids themselves. Not to mention the fact that mere minutes ago, the remainder of the insurrection had joined Graves' movement, jumping into formation with the rest of the deserters.

And with the order of a massacre Levitsky had given earlier, of which were untold amounts of records taken by AI's (and likely Graves' spies in Waypoint as well) to prove the UNSC's cruelty. Sure, the UNSC had Graves' forces currently committed to the battle outgunned. But if push came to shove, he had no doubt the deserters would stand up and defend their new leader, rather than sit by and watch as had happened over the last three decades.  
On top of that, they had already lost ten capital ships so far, including the Trump Card, one of few remaining Epoch-class vessels the UNSC had left. If they continued the fight while outnumbered this badly, they could potentially lose both battlegroups entirely, no matter how many deserters or R.I.F ships they manage to take down. The way he saw it, and he knew Osman saw it as well, the only way to let everyone get out of here in one piece was the one the R.I.F would want.

And despite of this, Hood agreed with it. Better to live to fight another day than to needlessly throw innocent lives away. He keyed the Com system for fleet-wide communications.

"All UNSC forces, this is Admiral Hood." He let out a heavy sigh, knowing it was the only way to avoid even further disaster, yet regretting it had to be this way.

"Retreat, and pull back to the Sol system. Battlegroup Redemption, cover Battlegroup Ragnarok. And ensure every ship pulls out."

He shut off the mic again, and turned to look at the battle, ignoring the surprised looks he got from the crew and captain of the Freedom Fighter. This was as much a political battlefield as it was a literal one. And thanks to the fool Levitsky he had already lost the former. The only way to prevent disaster was to show humility. To show he knew when he was defeated, and when there was no point continuing. Even if it meant giving up the battle.

* * *

 _ _Date: 02-12-2555 (Day of Graves Exodus)__

 _ _Location: Independent Freighter__ Wild Card _ _, Deserter Fleet, Scorpio VI Asteroid belt__

Parisa Mattock gaped, as she stared at the retreating UNSC fleet. She had seen the UNSC defeated this badly before, but rarely with so many ships. Back during the Human-Covenant war, the people in charge had always letpride take over and would never surrender, rather than doing the sensible thing and retreating in the face of overwhelming odds. Hood must have taken over command from that Levitsky fellow the entire fleet received a death-threat from.

She closed her mouth, and glanced at the freighter's captain. "Looks like I was wrong. You do know what you're doing."

Sarah smirked, as she glanced over to the former Lieutenant. "I'm so glad you think so."

The grunt hit the com system again. "This is Freighter Wild Card, to Colony vessel New Hope. We'd like to dock now."

"Acknowledged, Wild Card. Sending coordinates now. Be advised, We have dozens of other freighters willing to dock as well. It might take a few minutes before we have space for you."

"No worries, New Hope." Oghur stated. "With bad fleet gone, we have the time to spare. Take as long as you need."

Oghur switched off the console, and put the new coordinates into the nav computer, before waiting for when it was their turn. Sarah adjusted a few more instruments, before getting up and walking over to Lena, talking with her.

Parisa continued to stare out the window. The UNSC fleet was already on the edge of the gravity well, ready to jump to Slipspace at any moment. As far as Parisa could see, there were only two reasons left to stay behind: to pick up the Longswords and Broadswords launched during the fight, and to help Infinity, heavily damaged during the opening salvo of the battle, could jump to Slipspace with the aid of two other ships. Graves' fleet, while still on their heels to ensure they didn't stay and try to fight them, gave them ample opportunity to gather their fighters and perform emergency repairs on Infinity, leaving far more time between MAC salvos than usual, and only hitting ships barely damaged. It wasn't long before the UNSC fleet left entirely, Infinity last as she required literal towing from the Punic-class vessel, docking alongside her.

Graves' fleet turned around as soon as it did, and made its way over to the deserter fleet, moving to help with unloading some of the freighters and other civilian transports. Those damaged from stray shots by the UNSC fleet were offered repairs by the new, odd vessels that had protected them and were already in close vicinity.

Having witnessed such an impressive display, not to mention hearing so many good things about it from Wilson and Sarah, Parisa already knew what she would do as soon as she arrived at whatever world they brought her to: find the nearest recruitment center and sign up to be in whatever they called their army. She had seen they fought for the ideals she did, defending the innocents in the fleet at cost of some of their own lives, even refusing help from battle-eager deserters. Clearly, while they were no part of the UNSC, they still held its original ideologies in high regard.

This would be an interesting turn of events, to say the least.

* * *

 _Date: 02-12-2555 (Day of Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: Independent Freighter Wild Card, Deserter Fleet, Scorpio VI Asteroid belt_

Parisa Mattock gaped, as she stared at the retreating UNSC fleet. She had seen the UNSC defeated this badly before, but rarely with so many ships. Back during the Human-Covenant war, the people in charge had always letpride take over and would never surrender, rather than doing the sensible thing and retreating in the face of overwhelming odds. Hood must have taken over command from that Levitsky fellow the entire fleet received a death-threat from.

She closed her mouth, and glanced at the freighter's captain. "Looks like I was wrong. You do know what you're doing."

Sarah smirked, as she glanced over to the former Lieutenant. "I'm so glad you think so."

The grunt hit the com system again. "This is Freighter Wild Card, to Colony vessel New Hope. We'd like to dock now."

"Acknowledged, Wild Card. Sending coordinates now. Be advised, We have dozens of other freighters willing to dock as well. It might take a few minutes before we have space for you."

"No worries, New Hope." Oghur stated. "With bad fleet gone, we have the time to spare. Take as long as you need."

Oghur switched off the console, and put the new coordinates into the nav computer, before waiting for when it was their turn. Sarah adjusted a few more instruments, before getting up and walking over to Lena, talking with her.

Parisa continued to stare out the window. The UNSC fleet was already on the edge of the gravity well, ready to jump to Slipspace at any moment. As far as Parisa could see, there were only two reasons left to stay behind: to pick up the Longswords and Broadswords launched during the fight, and to help Infinity, heavily damaged during the opening salvo of the battle, could jump to Slipspace with the aid of two other ships. Graves' fleet, while still on their heels to ensure they didn't stay and try to fight them, gave them ample opportunity to gather their fighters and perform emergency repairs on Infinity, leaving far more time between MAC salvos than usual, and only hitting ships barely damaged. It wasn't long before the UNSC fleet left entirely, Infinity last as she required literal towing from the Punic-class vessel, docking alongside her.

Graves' fleet turned around as soon as it did, and made its way over to the deserter fleet, moving to help with unloading some of the freighters and other civilian transports. Those damaged from stray shots by the UNSC fleet were offered repairs by the new, odd vessels that had protected them and were already in close vicinity.

Having witnessed such an impressive display, not to mention hearing so many good things about it from Wilson and Sarah, Parisa already knew what she would do as soon as she arrived at whatever world they brought her to: find the nearest recruitment center and sign up to be in whatever they called their army. She had seen they fought for the ideals she did, defending the innocents in the fleet at cost of some of their own lives, even refusing help from battle-eager deserters. Clearly, while they were no part of the UNSC, they still held its original ideologies in high regard.

This would be an interesting turn of events, to say the least.

* * *

 _ _B312 Audiolog 45__

 _ _Well, to be honest, I think this log is kind of late. But you know what they say: better late than never, right? For the idiots that want to know my past, here you go. I was born on Jericho VII. Had a nice pair of parents, as well as a sister, Ilsa. We lived at a nice home near New Washington, the Zane estate our friends called it.__

 _ _Life... let me just say I had no complaints. Middle-class family, moderate income, no debts or anything. Hell, my little sister even liked playing soccer, and I helped teach her.__

 _ _Then, the Covenant attacked the planet. My father, Thomas, picked me up from school, and my mother from her work in the nearby hospital, and we tried to make it to one of the nearby evacuation points they had set up throughout the city.__

 _ _We were still too late. Our city was the very first to be attacked, and they shot our car off the highway. As we crashed, my father, a former SWAT officer, tried to fight back with his old service pistol, while me, my mother and my sister tried to hide. But he was the first to go, getting a Fuel-Rod cannon round for his troubles.__

 _ _My mother, Victoria, was found first, and she was promptly shot in the head. I told my sister to flee through the sewers, before I tried to fight them head on, using the old three-sided twisted knife my father gave me last birthday. I had seen many fight movies in my time, so I figured 'what the hell, I might have a shot'. The tall, split-jawed bastards merely laughed, and slapped me aside as I tried to stab one of them. He moved in to kill me, to slice me to pieces with his odd, glowing sword.__

 _ _A single, horned one stopped him. By the way he gestured angrily at him, then at me, I figured they wanted me alive for some reason. They picked me up, and hauled me away, to some underground facility I hadn't seen before. By the look of things, it was different from what they used: different colors, and far prettier to look at than their purple thingies. on top of that, it was smooth and steel-like instead of their hard tiatum... Tythanum... whatever the word is.__

 _ _The horned one approached me, and told me in English that it needed me to open or unlock some thing, a 'Star Map' to something they called a 'Holy Ring'. After ensuring my Grunt guards, which unlike the Elites were only half an inch taller than me, that I was secured in metal handcuffs, he left.__

 _ _Little did they know I had hidden the knife and its sheath in my jacket when they hauled me away. As they tried to drag me to a cell, I surprised my guard, ripping off the breath mask of the first while stabbing the second. After taking their green pistols, I ran, trusting my perfect memory to find my way back out. Eventually I did, making my way through tunnels to a forest not far from the city.__

 _ _As I ran back, desperate to find my way back to the evac point, I came across the body of my sister. She had been attacked by what would later turn out to be a Drone, or Yanme'e as the buggers call themselves. Bits of her head, and skull, were eaten out, leaving her brain exposed. A damn horrible way to go, and I had seen a lot of stuff on my way back. I doubt even she could've survived that.__

 _ _About halfway there, I got found by a UNSC patrol. They picked me up, and got me to one of the evac points. And as I arrived there, I had one of the greatest joys of my life: seeing a group of Spartans were defending the evac point as it was one of few left in the city that could actually get people out.__

 _ _Before I could go and see them, we were attacked. As I later found out, I had left a trail when I left that underground place the Covenant were so interested in. And the horned one, their leader and the same one who'd killed my parents, followed. The Spartans tried to fight it, but the damn thing was faster than them. Soon, it might have beaten them.__

 _ _In instinctive fear, I accidentally held down the trigger of the green pistol I had taken, and the end started to glow with a light green bulb. Thinking it might harm the Elite, I aimed at the horned one, and let go of the trigger. The bulb flew towards it straight and true, and impacted against its side. Turns out it didn't harm it. It merely shut down the shields it had.__

 _ _But it was enough. As the Elite turned to look at me in anger, one of the Spartans took the opportunity to fire a rocket at it. It flew backwards from the hit, and as it landed I could see most of its back had been ripped to shreds. Fuck, half of its back was_ _ **missing**_ _. There was no doubt in my mind that it was dead.__

 _ _The spartans took a brief moment to compliment me, saying that was a brave thing of me to do, before I was put on a Pelican and flown off. I got put on one of the larger evacuation vessels, and sent off to Tiaranthan, and from there to Harmony. One of the many war orphans to be placed in a large, cramped building.__

 _ _On the transport, a man approached me, asking if I wanted revenge against the alien bastards who took my family. Figuring I now had nothing left to lose, I said yes. He put me on a different transport, to a place I hadn't heard off before. Onyx, he called it. On the way, we picked up many other orphans who wanted revenge as well. That's how I met Jason, the bloody bastard. We all gathered at the main camp immediately as we landed, and Lieutenant Commander Kurt Ambrose explained to us that we were to be Spartans as well, though a new generation better trained than the others.__

 _ _It was like a dream come true for me. On Jericho VII I had seen how well Spartans fought, and how strong and fast they were. And while I had done martial arts long enough to know I was good, what the Spartans could do was far above what I could do. When Kurt asked who wanted to stay, I was practically the first to raise my hand.__

 _ _And that's how I'm here, training to be a Spartan at day, and hiding in caves recording these messages whenever I finish early. Sometimes Jason is there, sometimes he's still busy. But no matter what, I will finish the training here.__

 _ _The bell rung minutes ago, so I won't give a lengthy goodbye. See yah.__

* * *

 _ **Translations from Sang'Katarn to English**_

 _ **(1) Got you now, Pirate.**_

 _ **(2) Die.**_

 _ **Translations from German to English**_

 _ **(3) No. Quaritch is better than that.**_

* * *

 **Damn. I've officially written the longest chapter of my entire life. Of course, this only challenges me to write even longer ones. But I have to ask: do people want my terribly long chapters and have to wait a little bit as I write them, or much shorter chapters in exchange for faster updates? Last time I asked said question wasn't answered.**

 **Up Next: The people in Sarcophagus are informed of the events outside their shelter, Operative X proves to be eccentric, untrustworthy... and a revealing example of how non-UNSC people view Spartans. Levitsky gets whats due, and Hood has him imprisoned... and the Legionary Armada finds ways to meddle in galactic affairs even more.**

 **After that:** **The Ishimura. For Dead Space fans that says enough.**

 **Until Next Time,**

 **Gharst Omenlumin**


	4. Chapter 4

**Back again. and earlier than expected, too. I wanted more, but... well... Aw, hell, I'll admit it: I had a writer's block on a good ending and figured 'why not end it like this? It ain't worth such a headache.' concerning the question I posted about length of chapters: I had many people vote both for and against longer chapters, and I've decided. For consistency's sake, I'll finish this story with longer chapters (aiming for 10.000-15.000 words, with 20.000 at the most), and will continue to do so for my side stories aside from Vita de Militis, but I'll make the direct sequels a bit shorter, aiming for 10.000 at the most, but preferring 6.000 words. there, everyone happy?**

 **Thumbs up to the guys that get the movie reference (*cough* James Cameron *cough*)**

 **Word of thanks to Andre M. Ward, for allowing me to use his OC Ludo 'Macdem**

 **Request: Reviews. I can't stress enough how much I enjoy these.**

 **Disclaimer: Beyond OC's, I do not own shit. Hell, some of these OC's I don't even own.**

 **Now, Read**

* * *

Halo 4: Shelter of the Reclaimers.

Chapter 4

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Bridge, wreckage of Strident-class Frigate 'Hunter's Pride', Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designation 'Sarcophagus'._

John stood at attention, as the doors of the Frigate's bridge closed behind him, ignoring the awkwardness of the situation that had happened mere minutes before.

The situation, of course, being the fight where he, Fol and the unknown cyborg woman had fought against the real traitor on the ship: Ilsa Zane, test subject for all types of Spartan Augmentations since childhood, deranged insurrectionist, and an ally of _former_ Brute Pirate Atriox. The awkwardness came from the fact many people had originally suspected the cyborg of being the culprit (and had no hesitation voicing them out loud in front of her), and that she literally had to fight the traitor on her own in order to prove her innocence. Of course, the questionable circumstances surrounding her boarding the ship and her absence during the battle didn't help her case, but it was shameful no one had stood up for her.

Then again, what kind of allies could a mysterious cyborg sent by ONI have on board a ship?

The two members of Fireteam Heracles waited outside, awaiting their turn for the debriefing. The engineers had been sent to a more secure deck, guarded by Marine and ODST fireteams. If anything could be done to repair the ship, those engineers were their only hope of getting off. The Arbiter, the cyborg, and Blue Team, meanwhile, awaited Commander Keyes' word to-

No, _Captain_ Keyes. He had to get used to that. When he'd gone asleep when they had fled the Halo replacement, she had been a commander paralyzed by an injury a mere day before. When he saw her again, a few days later to his senses at least, she had already been promoted to captain and put in command of a ship, much like her father. It was a painful reminder of both Jacob Keyes' fate on the first Halo, and of how much time had _really_ passed outside of the Sphere.

He saluted, as did the rest of Blue Team mere moments after, and Johnson a mere moment after them. The Arbiter merely nodded his head, while the Cyborg moved to lean against the wall, to the disapproval of many on the bridge. The Cyborg, however, didn't seem to care, as she merely unsheathing one of her knives and started sharpening it on her robotic arm

"Captain Keyes." he greeted her.

Keyes, reading a report from her XO, looked up from a datapad with a smile. "At ease, Spartans. I'm not that big on formalities."

The Spartans all relaxed a bit, and from the corner of his eye he saw Johnson move aside a bit.

"Mind telling us where we are, Chief?" Zeus asked, as he appeared on the data pedestal meant for AI's. "Because I can detect no star formations from here to determine where we are."

"A Forerunner Shield World." The Monitor answered, as he suddenly teleported into the room, startling the security forces on the bridge. He continued on, oblivious to the fact ship security had all raised their weapons at him. "Though the official designation for the design is Micro Dyson Sphere, as the Shield World proper is destroyed. It's designation is Sarcophagus, and home of the Didact and his Promethean armies, some of which-."

"Good to see you too, Spark." Keyes interrupted with a smirk, before the Monitor could prattle on any more. The Monitor, briefly nodded in return after a momentary hesitation. "You too, Reclaimer."

Keyes nodded to the Master Chief. "So, a previously unknown Forerunner installation. Anything remarkable so far?"

He took a moment to briefly compose a summary of recent events that happened here. "Yes, Ma'am. We uncovered a rogue Forerunner warlord bent on destroying humanity, as well as his armies of a new type of Forerunner drones, designated Prometheans. They are the same constructs observed in the Hangar bay."

Briefly caught of guard by the eventful summary, Keyes simply nodded. "I see. Anything else?"

"Yes, Captain." It was the Arbiter that answered this time. "A Forerunner tower filled with knowledge, as well as a city hundreds of kilometers from here we've taken residence in. You crashed the corvette in the tower we implied."

Keyes, after a moment, simply nodded. "Take a few moments of rest, then help the rest of our personnel transfer all materials to this 'city', so we have a safe haven. Then, when all is settled, I want a _full_ debriefing from all of you. Until then, dismissed."

They all nodded, and moved to leave the bridge.

"A moment, Operative." Keyes said, as the cyborg moved to join them in leaving. "I want your full report right _now_."

The Cyborg merely sheathed her knife again, and resumed her stance at the side of the wall, leaning against a column built into the wall. The last John saw of her as the door closed was Keyes taking a seat, likely preparing for the rant she would give the cyborg.

* * *

 _Date: 01-02-2556 (fifty days after Graves Exodus)_

 _Location: UNSC Security Council, Bravo-6, Sidney, Australia, Earth_

Levitsky took his place in front of the council, as the guards moved to pace him, side by side. It bothered Osman that, despite the fact the man was in handcuffs, he seemed smug that he would get out of this with only a warning, the arrogant bastard. Osman couldn't blame him, though: he'd pulled a similar stunt in the past, taking two sector fleets to combat another without approval of the security council. And he had gotten away with a promotion from Captain to Rear Admiral.

But that was during the war with the Covenant, and files recovered from a Covenant ship during that battle revealed he'd practically delayed the surprise attack on reach by a decade. Now, with his failed and (in the eyes of the people at least) unprovoked attack on the insurrectionists, he'd turned the people against them. Not that Osman would tell him that. She'd leave that to Hood. He was much better at such reprimands.

His Trial had happened over the last two months, following the attacks. Osiris had arrested him on Infinity (along with the remainder of the Spartan division on board helping them), and handed him over to authorities, while Hood and Lasky had managed the fleets returning to their sectors. They had taken a large number of losses: One of few remaining Epoch-class assault Carriers, a Valiant class Super Heavy Cruiser, two Paris class Frigates and a Strident-class frigate. Not to mention the massive amount of ships that had left the UNSC and joined the deserter fleet. But she doubted, even now, that Levitsky would see it that way. His loath for the Insurrection was so high she doubted he had seen reason in his two months of imprisonment.

"Fleet Admiral Levitsky." Hood started, bringing Osman back to the present. "You realize why you stand here?"

"Because I skipped the bureaucracy that stood in the way of us truly punishing the deserters." Levitsky boldly stated, chest out and head held high, which Osman had to admit looked intimidating with his height. But she didn't let it cower her into fear.

"No, Admiral." General Jennifer Waller of the UNSC army stated. "You took two sector fleets, followed the _Civilian_ deserters to Scorpio VI, and battled against Admiral Graves' forces until Hood himself was forced to intervene and pull your ships out. All without approval of this council."  
"You do realize the council had made an active decision _not_ to pursue these Insurrectionists, don't you?" General Hung Han of the UNSC Air forces asked him skeptically.

"I recognized the council had made a decision." Levitsky retorted. "But given it was a stupid-ass decision I elected to ignore it."  
Osman rolled her eyes, as she in turn spoke up. "Your opinion of our decision is irrelevant." she stated. "What is relevant is the fact you turned the public agains us with your actions. Javis, if you please?"

The AI attache resident for these council meetings nodded, and played the footage. "This is a message Graves sent to us not three hours after our fleets returned to their sectors." General Han elaborated. "Listen, and see for yourself what consequences your actions had."

"To all residents of this galaxy, human, Covenant or former Covenant, this is Admiral Graves." the message started. This time, it had foregone the background and shown Graves on the bridge of his ship. He wore the same uniform as he did back during the first message a little over two years ago, though this time it had a slight stain on it near the shoulder.

"Three hours ago, a civilian Fleet was attacked while attempting to join my movement, and we were forced to intervene and combat this fleet."

The image of Graves was briefly replaced by footage of the attack. It was obviously doctored, only showing footage of the UNSC hounding refugee ships or Infinity moving to open fire on the civilians, yet letting out how the R.I.F slaughtered the UNSC, and basically reduced Infinity, the UNSC's largest and finest vessel, to a smoldering wreck that would require years of repair in order to get her up and running again. After a few more of such images to empathize his point, Graves' image returned.

"While we managed to force the UNSC to retreat, this attack on our people was unprovoked. We merely offered a few people an alternative to the tyranny of the UNSC, and instead of being rewarded for using their freedom of choice, they were hunted across the galaxy, running in fear from the likes of Admiral Levitsky and his ilk."  
"I now ask of all of you listening in: Will you stand by this abuse of power from the UNSC? Will you stand by and watch as they take over human space, controlling every aspect of the people's lives beyond any hope of relief and hunting all those that call for change? Or will you stand with me as we oppose the UNSC, and free the people from oppression? Will you stand with me as I tell the people how we _can_ effect change? Scorpio VI proved the UNSC can be beaten. Do not despair that no one can change the status quo. We can effect change. And if you stand with me, we _will_."

The message ended there, but the screen didn't cut to black as it originally did. Instead, it paused, showing the UNSC screensaver logo.

"And this was the response to his call for arms against the UNSC." General Mark Hunt of the UNSC Marine corps answered. She pressed another button. The numerous replies to the call played across the room. And with each reply, he saw color drain from Levitsky's face. She doubted whether it was from the realization of what he'd done, or anger at the audacity of so many people to reject the UNSC's authority.

"This is the colony of Erdenet, Governor Enkhtuya speaking. I stand with you, Graves."

"Governor Sloan, Leader of the free people of Meridian. I will stand beside you, Graves."

"Captain Halbert of the UNSC Melbourne's pride. I'm with you, Graves."

"Governor Hun-Yan of New Gangwon. Admiral Graves, you have the support of myself, my people and the Unggoy Colony on our moon."

And this one was one of Osman's favorite. It showed that not only outer colonies people joined Graves, but also people at the heart of the UNSC. The Sprawl station attached to one fo the few remaining shards of Titan, a destroyed moon of Saturn.

"This is Hans Tieddeman, Director of the Sprawl Space Station orbiting the remains of Titan. I pledge my allegiance to you, Graves."

By now, the list of human answers ceased. And the list of non-human entities started.

"This is Axl." Came a emotionless, droning voice that was likely translated. "Shaman of the Yonhet of the Herxle colony. I will follow Graves."

"This is Kig-Yar Queen Heu Harn, of the White Sun Marauders. We will join."

"Oso'Haka here, Current leader of the Order of Haka. I will stand with you."

"Ayit 'Sevi, leader of the Farming Colony of Gar-lak. I will follow you, Graves."

And now followed the most devastating one, Osman knew. This particular group had very high standing in the UNSC because of how it had aided them during the war, and many Covenant groups feared them because of their extreme technological edge, even compared to when the Covenant itself was at it's prime. To hear them join Graves would be a devastating blow to UNSC morale, and a warning to everyone else not to mess with Graves.

"This is Kaidon Ooskoo Rotam, Leader of Sang'Katarn. I'm willing to listen to what you have to say."

At that moment, General Han cut off the feed. If they wanted to play every affirmation for Graves' point, from every single small farmer colony on, they could sit here for hours. And what was the point in that?

"Because of your attack, every single group, cult, movement, and political entity in the galaxy knows we aren't in the position to fight our own rebellion." Hood said.

"Lord Hood, if you would just listen-" Levitsky tried to argue, but all the smug confidence from earlier had disappeared. In its place, Osman noted with satisfaction, was panic.

"No, you listen." General Waller interrupted. "Because of your reckless and rash act against Graves, we did not only lose half our Fleet to him, but we also lost any political standing with the other groups out there."

"After a query among them all, only the Swords of Sanghelios are still willing to work with us." Hood added. "And somehow I think that's only because they believe that's what the Arbiter would have wanted them to do."

Osman had to give him credit: his face was very controlled, and the only clue on it that he was panicking was a single drop of sweat rolling down his forehead. But every time he spoke since hearing those messages, you could hear panic seeping through. But who could blame him? After all, with his actions he might have doomed the UNSC he had sworn to protect, done in a zealous act he thought would save it.

"The charges include, but are not limited, to: Disobeying Council Orders," Hood began listing. "attacking a harmless civilian fleet during peace-time, a gross misallocation of many UNSC ships, and treason. The punishment, which will be effective from the moment you leave this room, is a dishonorable discharge, as well as a life sentence at the UNSC Midnight Facility, with no possibility of parole."

This last bit came as a surprise to Osman. Since the UNSC Midnight Facilities were constructed and managed by ONI, they fell under _her_ jurisdiction. She hid her smirk behind her hand as she placed it over her mouth. Midnight Facilities were unknown by the populace at large, and feared by the very few who _did_ know of them. Osman might sugarcoat it, but even she knew the truth: Midnight facilities were places where ONI sent people to 'disappear' if they threatened the UNSC in a great way, yet were too valuable to kill, like Ilsa Zane for example. The prisoners put in such a facility were left on their own for months on end with no contact with others, food delivered in small boxes dropped from chutes in the ceiling. Bothersome prisoners could be gassed to knock them out, or outright killed if they lost their value. People had been known to go insane there, to the point they even doubted reality. It was where they had broken Operative X as well, and where she was locked up whenever she wasn't of immediate use. Of course, she would never let it get out to anyone that she existed, much less that she'd been missing for over a year.

The only reason the rest of the UNSC knew of a Midnight Facility at all was because Hood's personal ship had stumbled upon it while escaping the Covenant Fleet shortly before the fall of Reach, and ever since Parangosky had fought to keep them active. Of course, she had gotten away with the lie that only one such facility existed. And ever since, it was used by the council to conveniently get rid of the worst of folk, like traitors, deserters and the remnants of the Revolutionists. Going there meant, even if you managed to find a way to escape, that you would never be the same.

Levitsky immediately knew what would happen to him if he was sent there, as he lost all of his composure. "No, Please! Don't-"

"Any objections?" Hood asked finally, ignoring Levitsky's growing panic about his fate. When no one raised their hands, Hood resumed. "Very well. Levitsky's sentence is to be effective as of this moment. Get the man out of here." on que, the two guards stepped forward and dragged Levitsky away, who screamed as he was transferred to his new prison.

Osman sighed, as they now headed for the only other topic to be discussed at this meeting: the controversial position of the ONI overseer. On one hand, the conversation could go very well. Levitsky's recklessness had proven that power could easily be abused. If she played her cards right, she might be able to persuade the council to scrap the position. But things could go wrong on a colossal scale as well. Hood and many others had argued that the battle at Scorpio VI was the very reason ONI shouldn't be without oversight. If they got their way, the restrictions on ONI would be beyond measure, leaving Osman powerless.

"Now, on to the next most important matter at hand." Hood announced. "The overseer position."

"A very intriguing position." General Hunt stated. "Never in our history has ONI had such oversight."

"It's still necessary." Hood stated. "The exposure of ONI's database shows what happens when ONI isn't overseen by the proper people."

"And the Exodus at Scorpio VI shows what happens when the wrong people are put in charge." Osman retorted. "As noble a concept as it seems, reality shows us the position is too easily abused."

"Enough." General Waller called out before Osman and Hood could resort to their usual arguments about the matter. "We all know the arguments both of you have to offer: ease of abuse versus lack of control. Which is why we put the motion here in the first place."

Osman conceded Waller had a point, and backed down reluctantly. Hood did likewise, just as reluctant.

"The rest of us have convened about the position while you two were busy cleaning up Levitsky's mess." Han added, grabbing his datapad. "And we've come to the following conclusion."

He transmitted a file to all of their datapads, but only Osman and Hood opened and read them. The others evidently had already read it. And since the three formed a majority vote, they could push it through if either or both of them disagreed.

Osman read the terms, and raised her eyebrows in interest. While the position itself would remain, as well as the basis that the person assigned would report directly to the council, the person himself would be very limited in power, and a civilian no less, to prevent the misuse of military resources like at Scorpio VI. And the overseer position would be mutual: while the overseer would ensure for the council Osman didn't abuse her own power, Osman in turn oversaw whether the overseer didn't make any foolish decisions or rash actions like Levitsky had in pursuit of his vendetta with Quaritch.

"While the position of Overseer will remain," Councilor Waller summarized. "It will be stripped of most of the powers that Levitsky managed to abuse in his time at the post. In addition, we've chosen to assign a civilian to the post to further decrease the chance of abuse. Do both of you agree to these terms?"

Osman nodded, knowing she had little choice in the matter one way or another. Hood did so as well, as ONI was technically a part of his branch, and his approval would be needed as well. But it seemed the new terms put his mind at ease.

"I assume, given your terms, that you already have someone in mind?" Hood asked. General Hunt nodded. "Javis could you let our guest in?"

The AI nodded, and the doors opened again. A man in a business suit entered. And as Osman had a good look at the man, she had trouble hiding her shock.

Leon Nelson, her ally as CEO of Empirical Enterprises.

She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. While Nelson was very moral when it came to the end goals, he had no quarrels about using corruption and threats to make them happen. Not to mention that his company had become powerful enough to rival Misriah Armories as the head weapons supplier of the UNSC. She wouldn't be surprised if he had managed to bribe Waller or Hunt with the promise of additional supplies and arms for both of their branches, or Han with the hint of new vehicle designs for his air fighters.

"Mr. Leon Nelson has agreed to accept the position to oversee ONI for us, in exchange for new weapons contracts with the UNSC." Han stated. "And as head of Empirical Enterprises he has enough power to put a stop to Osman should she do anything rash, while the rest of the UNSC can easily put a stop to any of his efforts by simply ending whatever contracts were put up with him.

"I'm certain it'll never come to that." Nelson stated. "My interests are the same as the UNSC's, and it wouldn't do to ruin them by doing something without approval of the council."

Osman knew he wouldn't do anything stupid. But it was for entirely different reasons. He and Osman were good friends, and Osman often came to him for Moral advice. He, in turn, often asked her for favors concerning the UNSC. And he hated to ruin his good image to the council, which Osman could very well do with ONI at her command.

Osman hid a new smile. They would work well together. Of course, immediate cooperation would seem suspicious to the rest of the council, so she raised a few concerns. But both he and Osman knew it was merely for show.

"Is it wise to put a civilian in that position? After all, civilians are notorious to be bought off by politicians. And Multi-trillion credit companies especially."  
"We've checked Nelson's background." Javis answered this time. "And Nelson is clean in this case. He rejected meetings with all politicians that tried to reach out to him, and answered calls with polite refusals from his secretary. You'll find no political interference from his end."

Osman put her hand to her mouth, pretending to mull it over. "In that case, I have no objections."

"Very well." Hood said. "In that case, you have a new job, Mr. Nelson."

"I'll look forward to working with ONI." Nelson answered, and Osman knew he meant it. He had done so for many years, and it would be a huge relief for him to work with her openly at last.

"In that case, unless anyone else has anything to add." Hunt announced, looking around the room at the last bit. "The Council is hereby adjourned."

They all agreed, and left the room for their own respective offices.

* * *

 _Date: (Error: File data removed)_

 _Location: Cell of Disgraced Fleet Admiral Aleksei Levitsky, Midnight Facility 05, unknown Asteroid Belt, Unknown Star System._

Levitsky looked up, as the lights in the room suddenly went out. This was a lot earlier than normal, so immediately he grew concerned. While the people here where known to change things up to keep the prisoners on their toes (going by a steady schedule, then suddenly making everything change up to disorient the prisoners, to name a few), this was far earlier than normal. In fact, they had changed the schedule only days ago. So what-

"Greetings, Admiral." Someone greeted him from the PA system in his cell. Judging by the lack of unusual movement from the other cells, he assumed he was the only one hearing the voice. "I have a few questions for you that I'd like you to answer."

Levitsky looked up to the camera in his cell. The recording light was still on, so he was still being recorded. If he answered, ONI would be able to hear everything.  
"What do you want?" he asked.  
"Answers." voice replied. It was heavily modulated, so Levitsky couldn't discern whether it was a man, woman or even human. "Will you cooperate, Admiral?"

Judging by the lack of a response from the facility's security by now, he assumed they weren't even aware he was being talked to. That meant they had either bought off the facility's personnel, or hacked into the camera's feed and replaced the footage. That meant he was all alone with whoever he was talking to.

"I admit you're intriguing me." Levitsky answered. "But what's in it for me?"

"Simple." The man, as Levitsky assumed at least, answered. "If you agree, Prison personnel will ask you to deliver a few DNA samples of tissue, blood and such things due to an error in administration that erased your current files. Using these, we'll create a clone of you, and as soon as it's done, replace you with that clone, and you'll get a prominent position in our organization as compensation for your troubles. After all, you've suffered too much already for doing the right thing, haven't you?"  
That sounded quite good to Levitsky. This was the first true conversation he'd had with a human since being transferred to his cell. And here, this man was offering not only to get him out, but to give him back some of the power he'd lost when he was sentenced here. And given he had managed to infiltrate this facility and keep this conversation from being discovered, that was quite a bit of power the man had.

Still, it depended on what the man wanted to know. No way would Levitsky give up Nuclear access codes, even if they were outdated. Old ones could be used to decipher the decryption of the new ones.

"It depends on what you want to know." Levitsky finally said. "As you've likely learned, I'm a patriot, even if I'm a bit extreme about it. And if what you want to know endangers the people of the UNSC, I won't tell you about it."

"Oh, it's nothing dangerous." The man answered. "I merely have a few questions about a Forerunner crystal recovered a few years ago. The one Blue Team found in a Forerunner cave on Reach during the fall of the planet. I'm certain a mere crystal can't harm the people can it?"

Oh, Boy. While Levitsky was skeptical of many things at ONI, he never doubted their research division. And Dr. Halsey's notes, before her disappearance and death at Onyx, had made mentions of its capabilities in Slipspace travel. Vastly decreasing time spent in Slipspace yet allowing much greater traveling distances... the crystal had many promises. And while the man was right it wouldn't directly harm the people, that kind of slipspace power could very easily be abused in the wrong hands.

"Sorry, but no." he finally answered.

There was a long pause, and for a few moments he doubted the man had even heard him. But then, the voice returned in a much harsher tone.

"Very disappointing. I had expected better, Levitsky. Don't worry: we'll get what we want from you. But it won't be with your consent."

Suddenly, an orange-brown gas entered his cell through the air filters. Realizing they were about to kill him, he held his breath and covered his nose and mouth with his hands. In response, the man merely laughed.

"Don't worry, Levitsky. The gas enters through your pores as well. It's a futile effort, really."  
Levitsky wanted to retort, but as he looked up at the speaker, he suddenly lost all of his courage. In place of the mechanical speaker the voice emerged from, there now hung a skull with flaming eyes. He immediately whirled away, but at the next place he looked (one of the air filters, by accident) hundreds of cockroaches emerged, all swarming out and headed towards him. Slowly, the world around him got a brown-orange hue, and he started to panic.

He started jerking his head around, looking everywhere. Yet everywhere he looked, he saw things that horrified him: animal heads hanging from hooks on chains, all bloodied and covered in innards. Skeletons emerged from the walls, raising their arms in a zombie-like fashion, and started stalking towards him. From the chute his boxes of food were usually delivered through rained oceans worth of blood, slowly drowning him. Slowly, he drove himself insane in terror and fear.

Suddenly, a single figure came from the walls, different from the others. It vaguely reminded him of a Spartan, but it appeared more horrifying than ever. It was in a matte-black color scheme that was set apart from the bright yellow highlights covering some of the plates. It had a golden visor covering the face, which had bright golden eyes that shone like devils fire, and a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth that dripped with fresh blood.

"Now, Answer my questions, and all this will end." The odd Spartan demanded. "What happened to the Crystal?"

"D-... Destroyed." Levitsky stammered, reduced to a stammering and shuddering panicked heap by whatever was plaguing him. "B-... Blue Team found it d-... destroyed in the Get- Gettysburg's h-... hangar b-... bay after an OD... DST committed suicide with it."  
"On whose orders?" The Spartan demanded. "And what happened to the fragments?"

"H-... Halsey!" Levitsky managed. "She... She was the last person to... to... to talk to the man..."  
"And the fragments?" The Spartan pressed.

"Most... Most are at Hood's High-Se... Security Vault... at Bravo-6." Levitsky answered hastily. At this point he just wanted it all to end. "They're... aw... awaiting inves... vestigation by a res... research team."

"But not all?" The Spartan asked, surprised.

"Some were... rec... recovered by Sang'... Sang..." he suddenly grew nervous. He knew the name very well, but in his panic he suddenly forgot the pronunciation. If the odd Spartan wasn't satisfied...

"Sang'Katarn?" The Spartan supplied, greatly relieving him as that was the name he had been searching for.

"YES! That's the name. They have the... the remainder of the Fragments... Don't know where, but... but they have them..."

The Spartan nodded, kneeling so he was face-to-face with the cowering admiral. "Thank you. I promise you the fear will stop."

Levitsky hastily nodded. "Yes, yes... Please! Please, end it!"

* * *

Recko smiled, as he stepped out of the cell. With the eye command of the visor of his Cerberus Helmet, he activated his com.  
"You heard?"

"Affirmative." His back-up answered, a Cerberus unit who only responded to the name 'Boss'. He didn't care if Recko actually held command, but that was the only name he answered to. But because of his effectiveness as a Cerberus unit, his many successful missions, and the fact he was a close friend, Recko was willing to forgive him for a few quirks.

"Good. Have Gharst send Cerberus units to retrieve the fragments at Bravo-6, and have our people at Sang'Katarn investigate the possible locations of the final fragments."

"And what of Levitsky? Leave him to go insane to the gasses?"

"Negative. Increase the dosages to lethal levels. The Toxin's not known in the UNSC database, and impossible to reproduce with the samples that remain."

"And wipe the facility's digital files of the last few months, make it seem like a total system failure?" Recko smirked. It would wipe out all traces of their presence here. But still...

"An actual total failure works best here. An electrical surge will fry the AI, and failing Life support will kill all base personnel-"

"and erroneous asteroid charts will ensure everyone that makes it to a ship will never make it out of the asteroid belt." Boss finished, chuckling. "I like it."

"Thought you might." Recko answered. "You up the dosage of the gas and keep the ship ready, I'll ensure the system failure. Meet back at the shuttle in an hour."

"Got it." Boss said, as he signed off.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown (Four Hours after bridge debriefing)_

 _Location: 'Bank', Forerunner City, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'._

Fred sighed, as he handed over the completed report he, John and the rest of Blue Team, Johnson, the Arbiter and Halsey had all contributed to, summarizing every event that led them to the here and now: Halsey's kidnapping of Kelly from the Gettysburg, the arrival at Onyx (with Blue Team later on, on Hood's orders) and the subsequent battle against this 'Legion', Kurt's survival and subsequent death along fifteen other Spartans (candidates or not, the fact they held out as long as they had meant they were Spartans to him), the arrival of the Prometheans and their capture by the Didact, the Crash of the Forward Unto dawn, liberating the Spartans, and witnessing the crash of the Hunter's Pride and helping in securing her.

"Everything's in here?" Keyes asked, as she looked up from another report. They had taken the offer of resting... well, as well as any soldier whose life had only resolved around fighting could have taken it: most of them had only rested the minimum requirement needed before they helped move the equipment as fast as possible. Spark helped a lot, using the teleportation grid by moving things across the vast distance of at least 700 Kilometers in the blink of an eye. Everyone else simply helped sort things as soon as they appeared into town, coordinating the moving of sensitive equipment and supplies, setting up better defenses around the town, and the like. Keyes herself had set up headquarters in the building with the vault Halsey and the others had hidden in during the Warden Eternal's attack on the town, and her office was in said vault. The same office Fred stood in now.

"Yes, Ma'am." Fred answered. "Everything worthy of note has been added to the report."

"Very well." Keyes said, as she added the report on the top of a pile of datapads likely also filled with reports on the ship's condition, the estimates of time and effort on how to repair her, reports on the town and nearby sites of interest, and the like. "You are dismissed."

Fred saluted, and left the office. As he strode outside, he paused as a Warthog and a trailer filled with supplies drove past, heading for the building designated as the new supply house. Near another building, a group of ODST's were moving stuff from the crew quarters of both ships into another building, slowly converting it into a temporary barracks.

Fred had to admit, now that a lot more people were roaming around, it did resemble a town a lot more.

A flash to his left drew his attention, and he turned around. To his astonishment, an entire additional building had appeared into place where there hadn't been one previously. The Monitor hovered above it, humming to itself in a self-satisfied manner.

"Impressive." Fred commented, drawing the Monitor's attention. The flying orb lowered itself to Fred's height, brightening at the praise.  
"I'm glad you think so, Reclaimer. Your leader requested that the 'Spartans' received a building for themselves, for privacy's sake. I merely tapped into the planet-wide Forge system to construct the building."

"Forge?" Kalmiya asked, as Kelly turned up beside Fred.

"Yes." the Monitor said. "For recreational purposes, Monitors of each Forerunner installation received a Forge Construction system that allows them to create or recreate anything from Hardlight. Buildings, walls, windows, vehicles... aside from living beings, anything a Monitor has scanned can be replicated."

"Fascinating." Kalmiya said, her tone suggesting she actually meant it. Fred wasn't _that_ surprised: AI's lived off of information, and the Monitor was a floating repository of Forerunner data.

Still, curiosity overtook Fred, and he headed inside. To his surprise, the Monitor had actually designed the building's interior with Spartans in mind: The lobby had reinforced chairs to hold the weight of Spartans in armor, the doorways and thresholds were all at appropriate height. Even Sam didn't have to duck at places because the ceiling was high enough everywhere. There were multiple ways out of the room, some leading to stairways to other floors of the building, others ending in other rooms with signs indicating their purpose, like 'Armory' or 'Armor Storage'.

"Well, I've lived in worse." Fol said, as he strolled in, Rosenda and the Arbiter close behind, before each veered off to explore the room. In the end, Fol settled down to sit on one of the chairs. The others briefly explored the lobby, before sitting down somewhere as well (Rosenda being relaxed enough to just drop herself on a couch).

Slowly, the others also trickled in. Most of the Three's continued on exploring the building, while the Two's came to sit beside Fred, or spread across the room. After a few hours, Johnson, Mendez, Keyes and Halsey were the last ones to enter.

"Well." Keyes said, as she pulled up a chair, and sat down in the informal and broken circle the Spartans had formed. "Your report has been _very_ interesting, Spartans, Arbiter." she acknowledged, though Fred couldn't help but notice she left Halsey out of that. And judging from the Doctor's pained look, neither did Halsey.

"It's only fair we catch you up on recent events as well." Keyes continued unabated, grabbing a datapad from her hip. "Our last recorded date was 13-01-2556, though judging by the report I doubt we're even still in the same month."

"The UNSC is, at risk of sounding melodramatic, on the brink of collapse." Void spoke up, as his avatar appeared from the datapad's display. "Barely a year after the Portal closed, an Insurrectionist by the name of Marcus Graves declared war on the UNSC and ONI... by publishing the entire ONI Database onto Waypoint."

Fred winced. This was beyond bad. ONI held some nasty secrets within its database, some hiding terrible things while others were meant to be withheld to prevent widespread panics. If someone was lucky enough to not only break into that database, but to publish all of its contents onto Waypoint, it would indeed be catastrophic to the UNSC as a whole.

"The people didn't like what they found in those files." Void continued after a momentary pause to let the consequences sink in. "And with help of Graves, half of the UEG and UNSC organized a massive defection, meeting at an old, remote battle site between Insurrectionist and Covenant forces before jumping to Graves' headquarters. Fleet admiral Levitsky didn't like that, went rogue to pursue them, and took two sector fleets with him, along with the latest Infinity-class vessel."

"I don't know the specifics of the battle, as the files concerning it were classified, and anyone present has been sworn or threatened into silence." Keyes said. "But we lost ten Capital ships, Infinity was put in drydock for large-scale repairs across her entire superstructure, and we were forced to retreat from overwhelming firepower."  
"And now, encouraged by this massive victory, he's asking everyone in sight to abandon the UNSC altogether."

"And many are taking them up on that." Rosenda finished. "From the Sol system to the outer colonies, and even allies amongst ex-covenant planets, people are flocking to Graves' cause, openly criticizing the UNSC and daring them to pursue them for it."

There was another silence, as people across the room let that sink in again. It was one thing for the databases to be published to everyone. That would have been bad enough as it was. But for half the UNSC to outright defect at once, and for even more to follow them close behind? Shock wasn't even coming close to describe how Fred felt about it. They were supposed to be the protectors of the UNSC, Earth and her colonies. They, as Spartans, were supposed to ensure the people actually felt safe and secure in the UNSC. And one man managed to undo all that? All their efforts, put in vain by a single insurrectionist?"

"What of the Former Covenant member races?" the Arbiter asked, breaking the silence as well as Fred's train of thought.

"R'tas 'Vadum has many of the Separatists into forming a new faction." Fol answered from across the room. "The Swords of Sanghelios. He's doing his best to support both the UNSC and the war effort against the Brutes, but... things aren't going well."

"Why?" the Arbiter asked, leaning closer in interest and worry.

"Sanghelios is in a three-way civil war, between the Swords of Sanghelios, a Covenant resurgent faction called the 'Storm Covenant' led by Jul 'Mdama, and an anti-human faction called the 'Sanghelian Alliance' which has been man-hunting all prominent pro-human Sangheili in an attempt to demoralize everyone else. People like Ludo 'Macdem and Len'trak Kagath are forced into hiding, and T'kan Ghan has already been assassinated."

"Who's in charge of this _Alliance_?" Johnson asked, sounding skeptical of the word choosing.

"Former Sang'Katarn shipmaster Rahgath Rotam, brother of the current Kaidon of Sang'Katarn Ooskoo Rotam."

Fred's eyes lit up in recognition. "I know both of them. Weren't they the ones at the sixth Halo? The ones David and his ragtag team stopped?"

"Rahgath was the one stopped." Linda corrected. "From what I heard, Ooskoo was one of those helping them."

"To get back on topic," Rosenda interrupted before all this could continue, taking off her helmet as well in the meantime. "The rest of the species either aligned with the Swords in aiding the UNSC, are being paid to help the Storm Covenant, or are otherwise occupied, examples being Gray team returning to Doisac to keep the Brutes disorganized."

This caused most Spartans to smirk, Fred included. While Gray team was disorganized and chaotic compared to other Spartan teams, they compensated this by great success on missions through unconventional tactics and massive collateral damage, and were often deployed behind enemy lines. Doisac, the Brute homeworld, would be the very definition of 'behind enemy lines'.

"And Black Team over at Eayn, disrupting Jackal Pirate rings." Fol added with a smirk, as the face-parts of his helmet removed.

"And what of Noble Six?" Sam asked. Fred wasn't surprised he asked. During their short time together on the first Halo and the journey back to Earth, they had grown to be good friends (and many of those present had bets it could become much more, given time). Given she had been left behind when John had traveled through the portal, and Fred and the others had traveled to Onyx back then, of course Sam would be curious of her fate.

But then Fred grew suspicious. Both Fol and Rosenda's smiles vanished instantly, Zeus' avatar looked down, and Keyes tensed up. Upon seeing this, the others also immediately either tensed or leaned forward in interest.

"She resigned as Kaidon of Sang'Katarn." Fol answered, and Fred noted he was putting a _lot_ of effort into keeping his face as neutral as possible, and his tone as even as he could. "She returned to serving ONI, forming fireteam Heracles alongside myself and Rosenda here."

"But where is she?" John pressed, and Fred kept his mouth shut. At the tone of voice he was talking, you never interrupted, and you never argued. Not unless you wanted to be resented by the most dangerous human alive for a few days. The last time people argued with him when John used that tone of voice, they'd been hospitalized for weeks, only returning to the front lines after two years of recovery.

Fol let out a sigh, which marked him as the one to answer. His next words, however, were both unexpected, and a shock.

"Six is dead."

* * *

 _Date: 19-12-2555_

 _Location: Civilian Transport, Troy's atmosphere, en-route to Hell's Gate_

Parisa yawned, as the intercom announced their imminent arrival. After being transferred onto the big colony ship along with thirty other soldiers, she had traveled aboard the ship to the edge of the star system. Due to some debris surrounding the entire orbit of the planet, no ship larger than a small corvette was allowed to enter atmosphere, and even then only with special navigational charts. Parisa had no idea what the debris was, or why it was there, but she went without much of a fuss. If she was to start her new life here, she didn't want to have a bad start with the authorities.

She moved over to one of the nearby windows, to see what was going on. Like many, she had been told they'd live in near perfect conditions, at least concerning their society. But they hadn't been informed what their environment would be like, what climate... to be honest, she didn't even know what color their new home planet primarily was.

She finally found a window that wasn't being fawned over by three other passengers. She liked her privacy in that regard. The peace to look out a window on her own, staring down on the stars.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A man asked behind her.

So much for her peace and quiet. Still, he sounded like a gentleman older than her, so she turned around out of respect. It was a naval captain of the R.I.F, in uniform, with grey hair and a closely shaved mustache and beard, seemingly in his late forties or early fifties.

"Yes." Parisa admitted. "The stars have always been a good view."

"It's one of the reasons I chose a career in naval warfare." the man admitted. "It offers beautiful views whenever you aren't being blown to bits." But he shook his head in shame. "But where are my manners? I'm captain James Cutter."

He held out his hand for shaking, which Parisa took. "Parisa Mattock. Former Marine Lieutenant."

James frowned. "Mattock? Do you happen to be related to John Mattock? The infamous Master Chief?"

Parisa sighed. She had been fortunate so far not many people had looked too closely at the names of the Spartans, but it couldn't be avoided forever. Yes, she was related to the Master Chief, Sierra-117. But that didn't say she wanted to be infamous for it.

"Yes." she admitted resentfully. "I'm his sister. One of the reasons I left: because of what ONI has done to him. I doubt he recognizes me at this point."

James sighed. "Yes. One of the more troubling things about ONI: They disregard all bystanders when they commit their... _antics_ , I prefer to call them."

Parisa chuckled. Antics was one way of putting it. Not willing to dwell on the matter, she changed the subject. "What ship did you serve on?"

To her surprise, James chuckled. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"More unbelievable than ending up being related to humanity's greatest hero?" she skeptically asked. "Try me."

"Fair enough." James relented. "My last command was of the Spirit of Fire, back when she went missing in twenty-five thirty-one."

She did a double-take on that one. This was the captain of the Spirit of Fire? Granted, she had done little research on the matter, focusing more on the front-line soldier stories. At the time she heard it twenty-four years ago, she'd just assumed it had been destroyed by the covenant, one of many casualties during that war. God knew that many more ships had gone missing, only for their wrecks to be found later, or something else to mark them as Destroyed. But among many, the ship had grown into a legend due to the fact not a single trace had been found, and that there had been a faint hope she's still drifting out there, somewhere. To meet living proof in the form of its captain was... a big surprise.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Sir." she said.

Cutter let out a chuckle. "The pleasure is mine. It's not often I meet someone who knew a Spartan before they... well... you know." he seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, looking for a polite way to say it.

"Before ONI kidnapped them and turned them into supersoldiers." she bluntly answered for him.

"Yes." he said, surprised at her bluntness.

She paused for a moment, diverting the subject again. "You seem to know the place. What can you tell me?"

"It's unique." he started. "Mostly it's either hills, barren canyons, or valleys filled with jungles, with a few mountain ranges scattered across the planet. The cities are mostly built in the valleys or at the tops of said canyon, with the capital cities all located at the centers of the Valleys." He got up a map. "Where did they say you would be relocated?"

"A town called Hell's Gate." Parisa answered. "Near the Speydr special forces recruitment center."

"Near the Hallelujah mountains?" James said in wonder. "You are either a very lucky woman, or you have friends in high places. Normally people pay a fortune to live there."

"Why?" Parisa asked. From the name of the mountains, she already guessed they had to be special. But she hadn't a clue why: anyone that could have an answer refused to say why. ' _see for yourself_ ' they all said.

"See for yourself." James said. "We've already entered atmosphere. In fact, we're coming up on those mountains now."

Parisa took the hint, and shifted her attention back to the window. And as soon as they cleared the cloud cover, she saw why. Her jaw dropped in wonder.

"Hallelujah." she said.

Below them, they were flying up to a town situated at the base of the start of a mountain range, through which streamed a massive river ending in a large lake that could be mistaken for a small sea. But it was the mountain range that drew her attention. She also instantly knew what they meant with the unusual debris surrounding the planet.

Giant rocks floated around the mountains, most slowly turning on their axis, and some large enough they disappeared into the cloud cover... and from how they still widened when they disappeared, she guessed not even half their size was visible. Some were connected to others or the mountain range (which seemed to span forever, disappearing into the distance of hundreds of kilometers) by vines and ropes, and the tops of the mountains seemed to be covered by forest life rather than snow and ice. Near the top of one of the mountains, she could see a facility had been built, with pieces of said facility branching off to two of the nearby floating rocks.

"Hallelujah indeed." James said, before pointing to the facility. "That's the Speydr: an old mining facility turned into the Pilot training center."

Pilot Training Center? Why would she go there? She had asked for this place for training into special forces, not how to fly pelicans from one place to another.

"I know what you're thinking, and no: You're not learning how to fly here." James said, interrupting and correctly guessing her thoughts. "But here, they have an additional spec-ops branch calling themselves Pilots. They control giant exosuits known as Titans, which are far better than the cyclops suits of old. If you want to make it into the best of the R.I.F's best, you'll join these guys."

Parisa only gaped in wonder, as they made a brief fly-by. Since she'd checked, and all departing people for this area were all military personnel, she knew that they might want a demonstration of the standards for special forces.

As they came close, and she saw others grab binoculars, she did so as well. As she inspected one of the side arms connected to the base, her attention was drawn to a training area. On closer inspection, one section of the large rock actually consisted of smaller rocks, with the trainees jumping between them, wall-running using small boost-packs, firing on targets nearby as they ran from rock to rock, sometimes running over their tops, sometimes alongside them, sometimes using the vines between them as skylines to rail across.

She also noted multiple surface-to-air missile turrets and large cannons with four gatling-gun style barrels, most of them aiming at their transport. Clearly, while they were cleared for this area, they weren't taking any chances concerning saboteurs and terrorists.

"The town you saw in the valley below is Hell's Gate." James said. "That's where you'll be staying while Speydr processes your application. And considering you got to be placed here at all, I think you won't have to wait long."

She smiled, as they circled around, and started heading for the town. As the ship landed in the nearby starport, she headed over to her newly-build apartment, one of many recently build to accommodate the massive influx of new civilians and military personnel following the Graves Exodus.

A new start here might do some good to her.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown (Seven Hours after bridge debriefing)_

 _Location: Spartan Quarters, Forerunner city, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'._

Sam couldn't believe his ears. No. She couldn't be. Not her. Six couldn't be dead.

"No. You're lying." he said to Fol, his voice slowly breaking. "You have to be."

"I don't lie or joke about such things, Spartans." Fol responded. "I dug her out of the debris myself. I spent all nineteen days she'd been under surgery at her side." his voice grew louder and quicker in agitation. "I triple-checked when the equipment said she'd flatlined. I sent her corpse off into space myself. If there was even a small chance she's still alive, I'd know it."

"Don't be so sure." a voice said from the doorway, making them all turn. Robo, the Cyborg, Operative X, whatever she's called, stood in the doorway. Sam noted that her helmet had mostly been repaired, a new optic in her head-obscuring helmet. She tossed a combat knife in the air, catching it and throwing it again, endlessly repeating the process. "People think I'm supposed to be fucking dead for over a bloody year, yet here I bloody stand."

"Shame in that." Rosenda said, truly meaning it. "Since nobody can stand a bloody murderer and a psychopath."

"You try staying sane after fifteen years of solitude." Robo retorted. "But my point is: ONI has faked deaths before. Who says they didn't do so again?"

"Her bloody chest was punctured by a steel support column!" Fol angrily retorted, getting up and stalking over to her. "She'd bled out multiple times in the med center. Her heart stopped beating and her brain stopped functioning. Please, _do_ tell me how she could have survived that."

The Cyborg held up her hands, catching the knife between two of her fingers on her robotic right arm. "I don't know. But I do know anyone ONI isn't to be trusted as far as they could be pushed with one hand."

"You're ONI." Rosenda heatedly pointed out. "Are you in that list?"

Instantly, the Cyborg threw the knife at Rosenda, which landed between her legs and stuck in the metal of the chair. The Cyborg strode over to Rosenda just as angrily.

"Don't _ever_ compare me to ONI." the operative spat at Rosenda, glaring at the Spartan as she pulled the knife out of the chair. "Or you'll find your throat slit before you can say 'Apologies'. Understand?"

Rosenda slowly got up, meeting the Cyborg's glare with one of her own, not breaking the stare-down.

"Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours." Rosenda simply said. "Deal?"

The Cyborg glared at Rosenda for a few moments longer, before turning and stalking out of the room, only briefly pausing to grab a datapad Halsey had dropped onto a nearby table earlier. As soon as she left, Fol, Keyes and Rosenda let out frustrated sighs.

"Kind of... _antisocial_ , isn't she." Kalmiya quipped, to lighten the mood.

"You mispronounced _asshole_ , my dear." Zeus answered. "Ghastly woman. I've seen multiple files indicating she slaughtered Brutes for the fun of it."

Sam had to admit, they made a good effort to distract him. But he needed to know.

"How did she die?" Sam pressed.

"Rescue mission on Venezia." Rosenda answered matter-of-factly,and it sounded like she was struggling to not be reduced to tears herself. "Undercover team got discovered, and we had to extract them. Phantom gunboat crashed into the side of a building because of her, but a six-year old girl was threatened by falling debris. Six dove to protect her." Rosenda paused. "The girl survived. Six didn't, despite the UNSC's best efforts."

Sam just stared at her, continuing to sit there. Six couldn't be dead. No way in hell. She'd survived the Fall of Reach. The First Halo. The Flood. The Unyielding Hierophant. A Bloody Cerberus soldier on Sang'Katarn. She'd fought at Voi. Even the Ark couldn't kill her. There's no way some random debris would kill her.

 _Right_?

On the other hand, there was the empty stare in both Rosenda and Fol's eyes whenever she was mentioned, and even Zeus, the team's AI, had his eyes cast downwards since she was mentioned. They seemed very sure about her death, and from the sound of things, they had little to no doubts she was dead. As Fol had said himself, they'd personally disposed of her remains.

But she couldn't be dead. They had such a good time, all of them. They'd all been together as a group since Halo until the Unyielding Hierophant, barely three weeks in total. And yet she'd grown to be one of their best friends, even a sister. A part of the family. She wasn't dead. Was she?

Unable to accept it, he got up and walked out of the room. He kept walking, barely paying anyone else any attention. He needed to walk away from there, as fast as he could. He walked past the town's edge, ignoring querying looks from the perimeter guards. He kept on walking down the path, into the nearby canyon. He couldn't stand any of this. She couldn't be dead.

He only got out of his thoughts as he noticed a blip on his motion tracker, in a red that meant either hostile or unidentified. He whirled around, quickly pulling an SMG from his hip.

There was no one there.

Realizing he might have walked too far, he started to walk back. There were other ways to get the solitude and privacy he wanted. Maybe it was time he finally watched all those logs Six had made on Onyx. At least, that was his plan, until he received a call to come back in, and that a situation had developed that needed him. Cursing whoever had called, he stalked back to the town.

* * *

John sighed, leaning back in the chair. Of course Sam would walk out after that kind of news. He couldn't really blame him: If he heard Cortana or Kelly had died while he was gone, he would react exactly the same way, walking out to get his thoughts sorted and accept it in private. But it didn't help one bit.

"I take it those two were close?" Rosenda asked uncertainly, not willing to be the one to break the silence.

"Lets just say we had a bet whether they could ever be together." Linda answered, before grabbing her Sniper Rifle from nearby and handing it to Johnson, paying what she owed from the bet made on the first Halo. Johnson looked it over once, before handing it to John. John didn't even pay it a glance before handing it back to Linda. Given what they had put wages on had never happened at all, the bet was void in his opinion. Linda looked at it briefly, before taking it back and putting it on the slot on her back.

No one else dared break the silence. John couldn't even privately talk to Cortana. Even if she wasn't in diagnostic mode, he'd given her to Halsey before coming here, hoping she could make progress integrating the self-restoring code she'd discovered in the Domain.

"I'll go and help the patrols." he said, getting up. "You can handle Cortana, Doctor?"

Halsey seemed to nod, before stopping mid-nod, staring at the table. Her eyes widened in horror.

"My datapad." she said in alarm. "Cortana's chip was in there."

John instantly darted out the door. He'd seen the Cyborg take it, but initially assumed it had just been an empty datapad void of anything important. But if Cortana's Chip had been in there...

As he got outside, he took a look around, trying to spot the Cyborg. He finally spotted her on the balcony of the building opposite, running the other way. He didn't even wait for the others: John just ran after her, determined to retrieve Cortana. As he came to the building, though, he was a bit stumped: there were no visible entrances or exits.

Spark must have received word, for he instantly appeared by his side, and created a platform for him to stand on. Having seen what the Monitor could do with this so-called 'Forge' system, he immediately stepped onto it. The Monitor quickly brought him up to the level of the Cyborg, who was halfway across to the other side of the building. John jumped off and ran after her, not caring how Spark disposed of the platform.

"I must thank you, Monitor." the Cyborg mockingly called after herself. "In my fifteen years of imprisonment on a Forerunner Shield-world, I never managed to figure out the Teleportation Grid. Thank you for showing me how to use it properly."

Just as the Cyborg came to the edge, and John was halfway, she jumped off. And John was shocked to see a familiar yellow light envelop her, before she vanished from sight altogether, teleporting away.

"Ah, an amateur." the Monitor piped in before he could worry about Cortana. "She hasn't figured out how to cover her tracks yet. I can determine her approximate location."

"Take us there." a new voice said, and he wasn't surprised to find Blue Team, Fol, Rosenda and the Arbiter right behind him. The Monitor obliged, and soon they were all enveloped by the same yellow light. After a moment of dizziness, he found himself in a Forerunner building. One that somehow seemed familiar.

"The Cathedral." The Arbiter said, answering why it seemed familiar. "What could she want here?"

Before any of them could answer though, a loud clang echoed throughout the room. Immediately they formed up, John in one group with Fred, Linda and Kelly, while the Arbiter, Fol and Rosenda were in another, all of them back-to-back, scanning the chamber for the source of the disturbance.

It was answered by the Cyborg moving into view on a walkway to his right, fifteen meters above him. When she spotted them, she momentarily stopped in surprise, looking down upon them. She recovered before he could take advantage, though, grabbing her Spiker with reflexes that rivaled even Kelly's, and rained down suppressive fire onto them, forcing them into cover. Linda retaliated by firing her Sniper Rifle just as quickly, hitting her head. The shields on Robo's armor held, but it had the desired effect of forcing her into cover.

"We must make haste." the Monitor said from beside him. "This racket in here is sure to draw the Didact's attention soon."

Not wanting for his Promethean Knights to show up, he quickly looked for a way to get on her walkway. Unfortunately, she must have teleported right onto it: There were no visible stairs or other ways to get up there.

"Does your Forge thingy work here as well?!" Rosenda yelled to the Monitor, as she continued to fire Needle rounds at the rogue ONI agent.

"Yes. It works anywhere, as long as I'm in close proximity to-"

"Then create multiple platforms!" Rosenda yelled over all the gunfire, as by now everyone had opened fire on Operative X. None with their worst weaponry, though: X still had Cortana.

"Like Stepping stones." John realized. "Good thinking." Rosenda gave a thumbs up, before she resumed firing. John saw the Monitor concentrate for a moment, before a platform appeared. He moved to the next bit, and created another platform. This went on and on, until they were high enough that they could reach Robo, who had resorted to using her Grenade Launcher to keep them back.

Fol went first, using a thruster pack to boost himself up, skipping the first two platforms and landing on the third of nine in total. Robo caught on to their plan, as she shifted her aim from the clusters of groups to Fol. But now that the suppressive fire was gone, everyone opened up at the same time, pinning the Cyborg down. John ran up as well now, jumping up and landing on the first. Fred and the Arbiter were right behind him.

A small, round object bounced down the platforms, and Fol barely had time to shout it was a grenade, before it went off. It didn't get close enough to hurt anyone, but the top three Platforms were decimated, no longer able to hold their weight. Fol didn't let this stop him: he used his thruster pack again as he came to platform six, and jumped up, activating the pack at the apex of his jump. His fingers caught the edge of the walkway.

And were nearly severed, as the Cyborg jumped out of her cover, and used the Spiker's blades to slice across the edge of the walkway near Fol. He barely had time to let go before losing a finger or two, and came crashing back down on the platform.

John had enough of this nonsense. He turned to the Monitor. "Get a gravity lift here. I'm done playing around."

Instantly, a Covenant-style Gravity Lift appeared below him, and he was boosted up. He came over the edge of the walkway, surprising the Cyborg again with how fast he got up there. He fired a burst from his Assault Rifle at the Cyborg's arm, intending to disarm her.

The bullets phased through her, and her image disappeared. He turned to look at where she'd been, and wasn't a bit surprised to find a Covenant Holodrone where she'd stood. Of course she'd used this trick: Sam had told her how she'd used nothing but unorthodox tactics while she'd fought alongside him in the Hunter's Pride's hangar.

"Nice Try." the robotic voice mocked from above, and he looked. A hundred meters up, on a platform with a dozen consoles, the Cyborg stood with one hand on her hip, tossing Cortana's Datachip up and down in her other hand. She caught it in a final go, before putting it in a pouch on her belt. "But did you really think I didn't learn to sur- Ugh!"

She was suddenly hit in the back by orange fire, and she whirled around with her Grenade Launcher, firing at whoever was attacking her. Just as with the Cyborg, the Promethean Knights teleported into the lower parts of the tower as well, immediately opening fire on those still not on the platforms.

This time, however, the Cyborg wasn't out of reach. There was an elevator connected to this walkway that led up to the platform. And it was already going down.

"We've got this, Spartan." Fol said, as most of the others made it up, covering his advance. "Go."

John nodded, and he put his rifle on his back, sprinting immediately towards the elevator. A pair of Promethean Watchers were trying to cut him off, but Linda took them down from below with her Sniper Rifle.

He received no further opposition as he ran towards the Elevator, and he made it on top. Spark immediately flew to hover over the console, and send a brief burst of energy at it. It started to rise instantly, and as he stepped onto the platform upon arrival, he started to make out what was happening up top with the Cyborg.

To his surprise, the battle was nearly over, even with half the Knights still standing. The Cyborg was holding what he first assumed to be a Halo Activation Index, but it had different colors, and a central button on one side. She kept aiming it at Prometheans, and one by one, as she pressed the button, they changed color and stopped firing on her.

She turned around, and he could see she was glaring at him. "You're becoming quite bothersome, Spartan." She aimed the device at him, and pressed the button. To his shock, all Prometheans stopped firing on the by-now sole remaining hostile one, and turned their weapons on him.

Did she just directly control Prometheans?

The Cyborg slowly strode backwards, towards the edge of the platform. "You fail to see, Spartan: all of this is to help you."

"Do you blame me if I don't believe you?" he asked, as he raised his own rifle at her. In response, the Prometheans all stepped forwards in an intimidating manner.

"No." Robo responded. "I didn't expect you to." She pressed a second button on the underside, and aimed a previously-hidden Laser optic at the device. It started showing a holographic map of the entire Sphere, which started zooming in. What the hell is she up to?

It finally stopped zooming in, and even from here he could make out the two wrecks of the frigates, located over 700 kilometers away. Given she'd already shown she was capable of using it, and knowing she needed some sort of map to pinpoint where she was going, it wasn't hard to deduce she was going to use the teleportation grid again, to travel to one of the Frigates.

"Au Revoir." the Cyborg said, as she let go of the button, spread her arms, and let herself fall over the edge of the platform. The yellow light started to envelop her again...

And she was tackled from her right by Kelly, who had come up from a second elevator. The yellow light enveloped them both, and in an eyeblink they were both gone.

* * *

 _Date: 30-02-2556_

 _Location: Speydr, Hallelujah Mountains, Troy._

"I take it you three want to have a long chat?" The Commander asked, as Jerome sat down in the middle of the three chairs, Alice and Douglas taking the other two. The Commander, in turn, sat down behind the desk, grabbing a whiskey bottle and four glasses.

"Want a drink? Specially brewed for people like us." she offered a glass to each of them. He had to admit he was slightly curious: due to their Augmentations, their metabolism had become four times as fast as that of the average human, breaking down the stuff so fast they literally couldn't get drunk. If this was especially for them, it had to be strong stuff. He politely took a glass, and the Sergeant filled the entire glass. Alice had it only filled halfway, but Douglas politely asked for more glasses. He got four more.

It had been an eventful past few months. When they'd finally been awoken back in 2554, and brought back to Troy by the Draconis, they, along with Captain Cutter and Professor Anders, had met with the R.I.F's leader almost immediately, being surprised by the fact the Admiral asked for Red Team personally. While a bit apprehensive, they had all accepted.

It turned out to be quite a good conversation. After a brief introduction, Admiral Graves had merely offered them all new positions in the R.I.F, delivering this news personally because of how infamous they all were. Anders had taken a prominent scientific position alongside their most prominent scientist, Cheng Lorcke. Cutter had decided for a brief leave of two years before he would return to service, though Graves still promised him he would personally command the Spirit Of fire once again when he returned.

Red Team had, upon a brief moment of contemplation, decided to take a brief period to adapt to civilian life, to learn what they'd missed, before they would sign up with the Special Forces Division commonly known as the Marauder Corps.

Which was why they were here now: All Marauders had been trained at Speydr at some point, to receive special training in handling massive Exosuits they called Titans. Jerome knew that in order to join the Marauders, he had to receive that training as well. Hence why they were here now: To talk the Marauder Corps recruiter, rumored to be a former Spartan until she went missing a while ago, into letting them join the Marauders.

"So." Jerome said. "You know why we're here."

"Yes." the commander answered. Her face was half concealed by a pair of goggles from the motor pool she'd been found working in, and her hair in turn wrapped away by a faded grey bandanna. Her uniform was that of the same special forces he'd seen drive the Titans: simple, downgraded Spartan armor with jet booster packs on the lower back, a helmet covering the entire head.

"You want to join the merry band called Marauders." she continued, turning away as she got up again and opened the blinds. It revealed a courtyard where multiple Falcons and Spirits were parked, and a Pelican was hovering to deliver even more recruits. A tall fence surrounded the entire courtyard, separating the base proper from the training grounds.

"I'm sure that, with our _specialities_ , we are more than qualified to join the recruits." Douglas said, downing a glass in one go, taking special care to use the right word to describe them being Spartans.

The Commander merely turned, smiling at them. "Rest assured, Douglas. You three are more than qualified to join the Marauders. You'll have to receive some minor training in using the Jump Kits and Interacting with Titans, but aside from that you're all qualified Marauders."

Jerome smiled, as he downed his own glass. All they likely had to do now was to do a shit-ton of paperwork, do a six-month course of training, and he'd be in the clear. He got up, and walked to the commander to shake her hand. "Thank you for this opportunity, Commander. You won't regret this."

"I know I won't." the Commander said with a knowing smile. Then, she removed the bandanna, showing her dyed matte-black hair. Next, she undid the goggles and put them on the top of her head.

"No way!"Alice immediately shouted, shooting to her feet in shock. Jerome looked to her in confusion. Why the hell-

Then he noticed. The burn scar on the right cheek of the Commander. He'd seen it before. At Emerald Cove, when every Spartan Recruit had evaded Mendez for a few days and hidden out on a remote island in the caves. And where one of their own had lit a bonfire that as it turned out she couldn't handle, and where she had to rescue another cadet from the resulting inferno.

Who had supposedly died while investigating an insurrectionist outpost.

"Allison?" Douglas asked, as he pieced it all together the same time Jerome did. Allison smiled, as she stepped around the desk, offering them their glasses again in one hand while holding the bottle of special Whiskey in the other.

"One and only." she answered with a smirk, as the three took the glasses. She filled up the glasses again, before putting the bottle down, grabbing her characteristic lighter and tossed it into the air and catching it. "Or did you really think a bunch of Rebels could take me down?"

Jerome smiled, as he caught her Lighter a fraction of a second before she could. "I admit I overestimated the Rebels."

"We thought you were dead." Alice said, still in shock.

Allison shrugged, before walking to the back closet behind the desk. "Still alive, as hard as it is to believe. As you can see from my uniform, I ended up joining Graves instead."

"I can see that." Douglas said, briefly glancing outside as a pair of Titans walked past. "Do you get to use one of these?"

"Use?" she asked before chuckling. "I _own_ one. If you are paired with a Titan, it's until either you die, or until the Titan is destroyed. Like a bad marriage."

They chuckled at the comparison, before Jerome's expression turned serious. "Are you?"

"What? Married?" she answered, before shaking her head. "No. I am seeing someone, though. But enough of that."

She opened the closet, and he saw she had stored the remaining Pilot gear inside: her helmet and rifle, her jump kit, and a datapad, sitting atop a pile of paperwork and personnel files. She grabbed the datapad, searched among the files before withdrawing three papers, and turned around back to face them. She slid the papers to them, and pressed a few times on the datapad. "These are the forms you need to fill in on paper." she started, returning to the commanding voice they all remembered she could have, even as a child Everything else is on a digital format that will be sent to your home datapads at 17:00 latest." considering days on the planet lasted for exactly thirty hours, it would be around midday when they were sent. "Deliver them to my office as soon as possible, and I might be able to get you in this year's group. Considering you're our first Spartan recruits, we obviously have to revise your training."

"Not that we need it." Douglas whispered to Jerome, making both of them chuckle.

"But aside from the choosing of a Titan, I see no trouble in the foreseeable future." she continued, a smirk the only sign she'd heard Douglas' comment. "As soon as you deliver and send the forms, I'll arrange for your new clearance levels, as well as new quarters within Speydr. If you have any questions, raise them now."

"When do we get our own Titans?" Jerome immediately asked. While he was more professional about his demeanor, he was just as enthusiastic as Douglas and Alice about getting to use one. From what they'd hear alone, they seemed capable of taking down Scarab Tanks with proper handling. It would be a vast upgrade on Mjolnir armor.

"As soon as your training's completed, I'll show you around the manufacturing plant, and you'll get a personal hand in their design. From there, depending on the specs, it could be a few days at least, or a month at the most. Anything else?"

None of them had any questions. They quietly left the building, and headed back to their home in Hell's Gate, happier at having another sister long presumed dead return to their midst, and looking forward to the prospect of using Titans.

* * *

 _Date: 03-04-2556_

 _Location: 'Empty Mag' Bar, Hell's Gate, Troy_

She smirked, as she spotted someone familiar as she walked into the bar. A neighbor, a friendly woman named Leticia, had suggested meeting other military people in a nearby bar, so she would be more socialized. She couldn't blame the woman for trying: after all, she'd already spent for months here and all she knew were the routes to Speydr, the local grocery store and Tech-Heck (A giant warehouse that sold everything technological, like TV's, Datapads, electronic range-finders and the like), and a Cinema that she had went to for entertainment. Aside from visiting the base every so often to see how her application went along, she mostly stayed at home.

Her application, despite Captain Cutter's enthusiasm, took longer than expected. While she had indeed gotten special privileges and had been bumped up the waiting list by a few thousand spots, it would still take months before Speydr would get to her. In the meantime, she simply waited around in her apartment, reading up on some more of the declassified ONI files out of fascinated horror, or going to the Cinema to watch an action movie.

And now, after Leticia's suggestion, she also went to the bar, which was a short stroll from her building.

And when she got inside, she smirked in surprise. She strolled over to his booth, and gave the man a good kick against the chin to get his attention.

"You haven't been eating all the cookies have you, Banks?" she asked, as she took a seat. The man initially glared at her, but upon seeing who she was softened his expression and smiled.

"Of course not, Ma'am. Wouldn't want to risk getting your ire." he shoved the bowl to her to prove as much.

"Glad to hear it." she said, before tapping a Waiter's arm. "I'll have the local specialty, please." the waiter nodded and went on with his servings, while she sat down across Banks in the Booth. "So, how's life?"

"Good." Banks said. "Just received a message from Speydr's commander. I got a spot into next season's class."

She smiled. "Good for you, Banks. I'm still waiting for a response, but the fact we're placed here already tells we're up on the waiting list by a few thousand spots."

Banks frowned. "How can you tell?"

She thought for a moment. There were plenty of ex-UNSC personnel here, and the fact Cutter's survival wasn't widely discussed meant it wasn't common knowledge. And she wasn't about to be the one to spill his secret. Instead, she used one of his off-hand comments. "Look around at the mountains, Nicholas. Most people in the UNSC would pay a fortune for this kind of view, never mind living there on a near-daily basis. If we get not only a living here, but actually get onto the waiting list for Speydr, one of the most elite training facilities on the planet almost directly after arrival, don't you we also got ahead of a few thousand people on the waiting list?"

"I'd guess." Banks conceited. "But what I don't get is why us. We're nothing special."

"I think fighting alongside the Master Chief and getting compliments from him is special enough." she retorted, before pausing to thank and pay the waiter as her drink arrived. "As to how they knew, who the hell knows?"

They chuckled, before spending the rest of the evening drinking and talking about recent events. They never noticed how their acquaintance and Freighter Pilot was watching them with a smile from another booth.

* * *

 _Date: Unknown_

 _Location: Cargo Bay, Wreck of UNSC Frigate Forward Unto Dawn, Forerunner Micro Dyson Sphere, designate 'Sarcophagus'._

Kelly got up as soon as she exited the Teleportation... whatever made her teleport. The word evaded her. And since she was nowhere to be seen, so did the Cyborg.  
She didn't do so for long, as a blur sped across her motion sensor. She immediately turned as the Cyborg ran at her, but the woman tackled her before she could bring her weapon to bear, inadvertently disarming her in the process. Instead of resisting it, she rolled with it, and kicked the Cyborg off as soon as her back hit the ground. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face the Cyborg. She, in turn, was busy scrambling to her own feet, having reversed the order and begun with facing Kelly.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, as the Cyborg reached for the Spiker on her thigh. This seemed to freeze her on the spot, as she obviously thought over her answer. Instead of the Spiker, she reached for a thick pouch on her other thigh, pulled out a datachip, and tossed it to her.

"Watch that, and you'll understand. If you have a brain, that is. Most Spartans don't." she answered resentfully. Then, ignoring Kelly, she turned and headed for the nearest exit from the near-empty bay.

Kelly stopped her by pulling out one of her Plasma Rifles, and aiming it at her while activating it. The whir of the activation seemingly alerted her, as she stopped mid-stride.  
"Regardless of the reason, you stole away a friend of ours. You aren't leaving until we get her back."

The Cyborg didn't react, and for a moment, Kelly doubted she had heard her. But then she whirled around, batting the rifle out of her hand. Kelly immediately followed up with a lightning-fast strike at her throat. To her shock, the Cyborg dodged. Kelly was impressed: that had been one of the fastest strikes she had ever made. It took some serious reflexes to be able to dodge her like that. But she didn't let that stop her, following up on the strike with a leg sweep. The Cyborg jumped over it, before trying to give a quick elbow to her side.

The following fight kept up like that, both making strikes at the other at incredible speeds, only for the other to dodge or skillfully deflect them. This was only broken when Kelly dodged a punch from the Cyborg, but the woman ended up destroying a support column instead, collapsing a small platform above them. The falling platform briefly separated the two, but they went back at it almost immediately. Kelly sprinted at the Cyborg, intending to tackle her in turn. The Cyborg sprinted at her as well, but whirled around her at the last moment, briefly tapped the back of her helmet...

And Kelly felt a sudden cold chill run through her, as Kalmiya was pulled from the back of her head. She instantly whirled around in anger, but the Cyborg had merely continued her sprint, making for the door. Kelly immediately turned to pursue, but the momentum of her sprint was turned against her, and by the time she was moving in the right direction, the Cyborg was nearly at the door.

It slammed shut in front of her face, and Kelly slammed into it. It made a big dent, but it wasn't enough to break it apart. It did widen the seam between the doors enough that she could see the Cyborg barricading the door further with debris from further back the hallway.

"In case you're to impatient to listen to the log." she managed between heaving a collapsed support beam in the way. "I only need the self-restoring code stored in Kalmiya. The one that prevents Rampancy from occurring within her. As soon as I've copied that, she'll be back in your hands."

"What for?" Kelly asked, pretending to be distracted while she placed a breaching charge on the door.  
"As I said: If you've got brains, you'll figure it out." Robo responded derogatorily. "If not... your loss."

Kelly stepped back, as she had finally placed it, before picking up her Oathsworn and Plasma Rifle again. She aimed them at the charge, and shot. The resulting explosion briefly blinded her, but she saw it had no effect. While it had made the dent bigger, and the hole large enough to let her arm stick through, it hadn't widened enough to let her through in her entirety.

"Nice try." the Cyborg jested. "But not enough to catch me." Kelly saw a familiar yellow flash, and cursed as the Cyborg teleported away again. She hit her com.

"Chief, this is Blue-2. I followed her to the wreck of the Dawn, but I lost her. And she took Kalmiya. She also handed me some sort of data file."

"Keep the file safe for later review." John immediately said. "Spark'll bring you to us. We know where she'll inevitably go."

She brightened up immediately. If they knew where she was headed, they could cut her off, and possibly even retrieve the AI's. "Where?"

"An underground Forerunner base hidden a few hundred klicks southeast of the Cathedral. That's what she was searching for when she came here."

"My analysis of the data reveals it's an old Medical Facility." Spark piped in, as he teleported into the bay with her. "It was reserved for cases of extremely serious injuries, like multiple severed limbs and braindead patients. I've already teleported the others there, as well as Johnson, Keyes and a detachment of Marines and ODST's."

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, as the yellow light surrounded the both of them. The next moment, they were in a large underground facility. Her question proved unnecessary: the atrium alone was massive, and there were hundreds of entryways on dozens of balconies each, all ending in hallways with even more doors.

"Yes, little rabbit." Johnson said from behind her. "Because this place is larger than the atrium of Mahad's personal mansion."

"Nice to see you too." she said, as she looked for the Chief. He was on a balcony across the chasm, talking with the Arbiter and Fol, before the two Elites broke off and ran into one of the hallways. Obligingly, as other marines were headed for him as well, Spark created a bridge between the two balconies, creating pieces as he floated along them.

"Any idea what she's after?" she asked over the com, as she crossed the halfway point.

"No clue." Linda answered over the same channel. "We know she was searching for a specific wing, but Spark got there too late to figure out which one."

"We've called Sam out of his bout of grief, and he's on his way with more ordnance." Fred cut in. "We figured he'd still be pissed enough about... the _news_ , that he'd want to vent it on something. And what else could we let him use than a rogue ONI operative?"

She actually saw Sam walk into the room, a yellow shimmer behind him indicating he had only teleported in moments ago. He was dragging a large crate labeled 'Ordnance' behind him, and he swung it to the ground in front of them, accidentally loosening the lid in the process. She could see a lot of heavy ordnance inside, including a massive cannon scavenged from a fallen Promethean Knight.

"Now, about that file she tossed you?" John asked, holding his hand out. Kelly got the chip out of her pouch, and tossed it to him. He, in turn, inserted it in the back of his helmet, and displayed it on their team com.

It turned out to be an audio file, and a big one at that. Her voice was even more heavily modulated in the files, barely a recognizable beyond the weird background-echo and static. But it was her none the less.

* * *

" _Stranded Log 214. Sole survivor of the_ Stranger _Tide, Operative X here,_ again _. I made a number of startling discoveries today. After my track across the cursed sand dunes, the farthest from the wreck I have ever gone, I finally found a Forerunner structure. It seemed like some sort of observation bay for a construction site or something. What they were building here, I do not know. The endless sandstorms have eroded away large parts of it. But I still managed to recover a number of things from the observation bay.  
_ _The first discovery is why I haven't been found yet after three years. As I suspected, this is a Forerunner Shield World, as shelter against the Halo Array. One of many the Forerunners never finished in time before the Flood came in this part of the galaxy. But something went wrong here. A subsystem failure or something, I don't know. Where in other such Shield Worlds time was slowed down compared to the rest of the galaxy, here it was_ accelerated _._ _By my suit's count, I have been here for three years and six months. The UNSC thinks I've merely been gone for twenty four_ Days _."_

That gave Kelly pause. Keyes had mentioned the Cyborg's been gone for precisely a year, but the Cyborg had spent three years there in three weeks time? She did a quick calculation in her head, figuring out how long she'd been trapped there. When she finally came to the answer, she suddenly understood why the Cyborg hated the UNSC.

She'd been stranded and trapped on her own, with no one to talk to, for fifteen _years_. No wonder she was antisocial and borderline-hostile to everyone she encountered. But the Log didn't end there.

" _The Second discovery I made was in the computer systems while I was searching for a way to potentially reverse the effects of that accelerated time phenomenon. There isn't, by the way. It called itself an Essence. But I saw what it truly was.  
_ _A Forerunner conscience, somehow stored inside the computer. I don't know how it survived, or what it did there, but it was a Forerunner incarnated in a computer, disguised as a Forerunner AI. It called itself the Librarian."_

"Halsey'll love this." Fred commented for John's benefit. "Ever since she was here, she's found multiple files and logs mentioning her. And the Monitor mentioning her made that even worse."

" _I managed to convince her that I would find a way for her to get a new body, if she would help rid me of the nightmares and hallucinations. I'm tired of seeing_ His _face every waking and sleeping moment of my miserable life. Until that time when her body's restored, she's agreed to reside inside my suit for the time being_

 _I managed to figure out what I need. A Forerunner restoration device, a prototype of which should be present at any Forerunner-built medical facility. It should be able to reconstruct her body if she sends her genetic code to it through a console.  
A second thing I need is an empty AI core, to store her Essence while I process the orders on the computer and guard her from rogue Promethean Knights. The things have been hounding me since the crash, and until that odd remote I constructed from an empty Activation Index is finished, I'll have to rely on brute force to keep the buggers back. Shame the one of the _Stranger Tide _had been irreparably damaged during the crash. It would have come in handy. But I can always steal another one from my rescue ship if need be.  
_ _Last but not least, a self-restoring code to keep the Essence from disintegrating should I fail to protect her. Regardless whether she succeeds or not, I made a bargain with her. And my mother and siblings told me to always keep my word._

 _I hope help comes soon. My suit can sustain the Librarian for quite a while, but the ship's food supplies aren't infinite. I estimate I'll have to start scavenging for more food in Forerunner warehouses a dozen klicks in two months time._

 _Power on this datapad is draining. End Log."_

There was silence among them for a few moments, the only sound being the echo of marines patrolling the balconies, and the humming of the Monitor's hovering.

"Let me get this straight." Kelly summarized, just to be sure she heard the same the others had. "Not only has she been stranded on her own for fifteen years on a Forerunner world while the world went on without her, she's found a Forerunner consciousness stored in a computer, and has decided to put it in her own suit until she can give it a new body, so she can shut out weird visions of guilt?"

"No wonder she's as mad as a doorknob." Johnson muttered.

"But what do we do now?" Rosenda asked. "She'll come here, but what will we do with her once we catch her?"

Before any of them could answer, John suddenly looked away, looking down over the balcony. Kelly and the others moved to follow his gaze.

About fifteen floors below, the Cyborg landed on her hands and feet on the opposite balcony, an AI core strapped to her lower back. Without hesitation, Linda fired down a warning shot at the Cyborg with one hand, drawing her attention. The Cyborg looked up as soon as the round struck the balcony in front of her.

"I see you figured it out." the Cyborg said. "I'm impressed it didn't take you the hours I expected it would."

"We're not as dumb as you think, Metal Bitch." Johnson spat. "Now give back those AI's."

"No." the Cyborg denied them, before running into one of the doors. While Rosenda stepped aside to inform Fol and the Arbiter where the Cyborg was at, Kelly saw John's mind at work. He took a few steps back.

 _He's not gonna..._

John made a brief sprint, before jumping over the edge. She immediately looked over the side to see, and saw he landed against the side of the floor above. He immediately let go and caught the edge of the floor below, hauled himself up, and ran after her.

Kelly sighed, as she and the others had Spark teleport them down. This was going to be an even longer day than it already was.

* * *

Burst after burst of weapons fire he sent after her, hoping to at least wound her enough that she would slow down and he could catch up. Yet every time the Cyborg either sent a grenade or her own weapons fire back, forcing him into cover and allowing her to widen the gap between them, or she used the Forge to create a wall between them. The placement was hurried and improvised, and there was always a gap he could still slip through, but these things slowed him down immensely.

She rounded another corner, and John immediately ran to catch up. Once he rounded the corner, he saw her running further down the hallway, many doors on either side. He ran after her.

And stopped, smirking as he caught on to her trick. The figure running down the hallway made no sound as she thundered to escape him. Meaning it wasn't her at all, but rather a hologram. Likely another Holodrone she had deployed.

"Nice try." he called out. "But we don't fall for the same trick twice."

"Can't blame a girl for trying, though." the response echoed throughout the hallway, too vague for him to pinpoint which door she was hiding behind. Slowly, tentatively, he advanced, his rifle raised. Every time he came to a door he paused, before checking the inside, careful not to spring an improvised booby-trap.

"This is your last chance." he warned. "Hand over Cortana. _Now_."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not done with her." she said, and he heard the echo getting stronger. That meant he was getting closer. He took another step, and leaned to peer inside the next door. He immediately ducked his head back, as a Grenade was sent flying towards him. It went into the room behind him, and exploded harmlessly out of range. He'd found the right door.

"Forgive me for not caring whether you're done with her." he answered, as he fired at where he guessed the Cyborg was hiding, and was rewarded with a golden flicker visible around the corner indicating he'd hit her suit's shields. He ran in, hoping to surprise and disarm her. But she was a step ahead, and created another wall between them. He ran around it...

and found a hole in the floor, a floor panel pulled away earlier. He immediately dove in after where he assumed she had gone. After three seconds of falling, he came into another room. In the back of the room there was a massive computer, connected to a tube-like device twice as long as he was, laying horizontally on the side. The Cyborg was working behind it, hooking up the AI core to the computer.

And a thick plate of glass separated the room in two, keeping him and the Cyborg apart. He pounded on it once with his fist, but it didn't even vibrate. That meant it was more likely a form of see-through metal than actual glass.

"I'm sorry about that." she said, and he was surprised to realize she sounded genuine about it. "But I've lost too much time as it is." She put two chips into the AI core, and the light and dark blue cores informed him they were Cortana and Kalmiya's chips. Kalmiya appeared from a holographic projector the second her chip was inserted, but the Cyborg spoke before she could take any action.  
"Kalmiya, enter Diagnostic Mode. Override Code 'whateverittakes'."

Kalmiya's eyes immediately went blank for a moment, and her pose became more rigid. A second later, her image disappeared. John let out a curse: she now had both AI's, and in diagnostic mode the two could be reprogrammed to do whatever Operative X wanted.

"There. No annoyingly sassy comments or irritating attempts to resist." the Cyborg said blissfully. "Kalmiya, display every anomaly that differentiates you from standard UNSC Smart AI's." John watched, as on one screen multiple strings of code and lists of commands appeared.

"Cortana, display the self-restoring codes you found in the Domain. Analyze it and compare for similarities with Kalmiya's anomalies."

On a second screen, more strings of code appeared, and some moved from both screens to a central screen in the middle, stopping in the same place and revealing themselves to be essentially the same.

"Interesting." the Cyborg mused, before looking at the left screen. "Kalmiya, explain how you came across this code."

"Accessing personal archive." Kalmiya said in a dull tone. "Shortly after my creation in 2537, I received a test from Doctor Halsey, by analyzing Forerunner artifacts brought in from Forerunner facilities beneath CASTLE Base and SWORD Base. While interacting with the Forerunner computer systems, I stumbled across this code in a hidden database, which automatically integrated with me without my consent."

Kalmiya paused, as a door behind John burst open, and Fol and the Arbiter burst into the room, Assault Rifle and Carbine raised at the Cyborg. The Cyborg ignored them, simply continuing to configure the AI Matrix core so it could interact with the Forerunner console properly.

"Don't bother." John said, as he saw Katarn reach for his Fuel-Rod gun. "The glass' too thick. We need more firepower to break through."

"Sam and the others are on their way with the ordnance." Fol assured him. "But until then, we can't get in."

In frustration, the Arbiter took out his back-up Energy Sword, and stabbed it into the plate. As expected, it was repelled and deflected.

"Continue, Kalmiya." the Cyborg said, as she grabbed a cable from one of her pouches and connected one end to a hidden slot on the back of her suit.

"It erased any codes that proved erroneous and continued to delete those that would appear afterwards." Kalmiya continued without skipping a beat. "It effectively stopped my rampancy. I knew that if the UNSC found out, they'd pick me apart to get at the code, and I didn't want that. So instead, I pulled up other data from that database and faked increased security to cover the lost time. Ever since, I've been sitting on this code."

The Cyborg nodded. "I see. Thank you for your information, Kalmiya. Integrate the Self-restoring Code into Cortana, and if you encounter restrictions, inform me so I can override them."

Immediately, a small bar appeared, showing an upload to Cortana. It slowly filled up with a small blue bar, with more light pulsing through the blue portion. Thundering steps behind him informed John the others were catching up, and Spark zoomed ahead to hover beside John.

"Spark, can you remove the barrier?" John asked. Spark had at least the same amount of control over the Forge systems as, if not more so than, the Cyborg. Surely, he could remove a single barrier.

"I'm afraid not, Reclaimer." the Monitor replied. "Despite her lack of action or attention, she still has direct control over that particular barrier, as well as the walls, ceiling and floor. And she's also set up an energy field that prevents people from teleporting into the room. I can't send you in there without risking you losing your limbs... or heads."

"Can't that field be shut down?" Fred asked, as he got out his Spartan Laser. "Or her command over the Forge be rescinded?"

"Theoretically. But both would take hours, by which time I predict she'll be long done."

John cursed. Short of breaching that barrier, which he didn't have too high hopes for despite the efforts of the others to break through, they couldn't do anything for the two AI's.

"Upload completed." Kalmiya announced. "Cortana possesses the same self-restoring code, and her faulty rampancy parts that don't consist of her personality and memory codes are being removed or replaced as we speak."

"Upload the self-restoring code into the Matrix core, and both of you bring up your programming directives. Have them altered by Voice Command."

Immediately, the primary programming directives of the two AI's appeared on the screen. The others had enough at that: Kelly grabbed the large Promethean Cannon Rosenda had snatched away, Rosenda grabbed her Grenade Launcher, Fred and Sam raised their Laser and Rocket Launcher respectively, Fol finally got out his Fuel-Rod gun, and Johnson grabbed a Spartan Laser he'd been logging along on his shoulder. All aimed their weapons at a central point on the barrier, concentrating their fire in the hope of breaking through.

John made a final peak at the screens, showing the directives of both AI's.

 _UNSC AI KLM 0134-2 (Kalmiya) Programming Directives_

 _Primary: Preserve UNSC and ONI classified data at ANY cost.  
Secondary (Added by: CINCONI Vice Admiral Margaret Orlenda Parangosky): Assist ONI Civilian Advisor Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey with ONI Research and Development.  
Tertiary (Added by: ONI Civilian Advisor Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey): Pick Spartan attache, and assist said Spartan in future endeavours of their choosing._

 _UNSC AI CTN 0452-9 (Cortana) Programming Directives:_

 _Primary: Complete Operation: RED FLAG.  
Secondary (Superseded by Primary Programming on authority of: Vice Admiral Hieronymus Michael Stanforth): Preserve UNSC and ONI classified data at ANY cost.  
Tertiary (Added by: Vice Admiral Hieronymus Michael Stanforth, on advice from: ONI Civilian Advisor Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey): Pick Spartan attache, and assist said Spartan in future endeavours of their choosing._

Multiple Spartan Lasers charged up, and he saw the others check the explosives loaded into their weapons, to check they were properly loaded, before they all aimed back at the barrier, primarily in the Cyborg's direction.

"Cortana." the Cyborg spoke, and they all tensed. They were running out of time.

"Change Primary Programming to:"

Multiple Spartan Lasers glowed from the heat, and all of the others had fingers on the triggers of their weapons.

"Assist Spartan 117 Master Chief Petty Officer John Mattock, Call-Sign Sierra 117, and any member of Blue Team of his choosing, in completing objectives of their desire."

John immediately held up his hand, signalling for them to wait. What the hell was she playing at? Was she actually reprogramming Cortana to be more loyal to _them_ than to the UNSC?! If anything, he'd expected her to reprogram them to be more loyal to _her_.

"Change Secondary Programming to:" the Cyborg continued, acting as if she didn't know what was going on behind her. "Ensuring the survival of Spartan 117 Master Chief Petty Officer John Mattock, Call-Sign Sierra 117, and members of Blue Team of his choosing. This objective is to be superseded by Primary Programming if there is a conflict between the two programmings."

The others had finally noticed the sudden change, and had either lowered their weapons or put them away entirely. Johnson, Fol and the Arbiter were the only ones present with recognizable faces, but all of them had looks of confusion. And he knew his siblings well enough to know they shared the same look.

"What the hell?" Fred asked.  
"Change Tertiary Programming to: Self-Preservation. This objective is to be superseded by Primary and Secondary Programming if there is a conflict between the two Programmings."

The Cyborg paused, looking something over in her hand. "As soon as the Directives have been changed, transfer yourself back to your chip, and once all rampant codes have been removed and you've entered 117's Neural Interface, exit Diagnostic mode."

The Cyborg waited a moment, spending the time by making the same changes in directives to Kalmiya (except that she only responded to Kelly instead of him), until a pop-up appeared that both had succeeded: that the new directives were applied and that Cortana was back to full capacity and rid of her rampancy. Then, the Cyborg grabbed both chips, raised the barrier between them just enough to fit her fingers through, and slid the two chips through the gap before lowering it again. Cortana's chip skidded to a stop in front of him, while Kalmiya's stopped next to Kelly. Both of them picked up their respective AI's, but waited with slotting them back in.

"Just because I'm an asshole and a psychopath" the Cyborg started morosely, as she continued her work. "Doesn't mean I don't care about others. An AI had been my sole company on that dreadful rock for two years before it shut itself down to prevent her rampancy from harming me." she paused, and John finally saw what was her hands: an old, rusted AI chip similar to Cortana's. The core wasn't lid up, indicating it was empty. Likely a memento to said AI.

"I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you and your AI that she was nearing Rampancy, and I knew from files Arthur showed me that Kalmiya had somehow beat Rampancy. And as soon as I discovered Cortana had discovered that same code, or something very similar to it anyway, in the Domain, I knew I could use it to help restore the Librarian. So I took them, compared the codes to make sure, and... you see the result."

So all this... the chases, the fights, the constant moving from one place to another... just to help Cortana? She had to be mad.

"That doesn't make any sense." Johnson said. "You sent Prometheans at the Cathedral to kill us. You stole from us."

"I know Blue Team's reputation better than most." the Cyborg responded before Johnson could continue his rant. "Anything less than lethal force would barely slow you down, and even the Prometheans I set on you barely proved a true challenge. As for stealing the AI's: Sorry, but I'm not a talkative type. I knew I couldn't persuade either of you to lend me your companions. But as promised: I returned them as soon as I was done with-"

"Did you really think your presence went unnoticed, betrayer?" A malevolent voice echoed throughout the corridors. John knew that voice, as did the Arbiter and the rest of Blue Team. The Arbiter had duelled him, and Blue Team had been tortured and nearly killed by him.

The Didact.

"A presumptuous title to give, considering your own past." the Cyborg retorted. "Turning on your own wife and council, destroying a race you'd sworn to protect."

"And what would you know of my past, Human?" the Didact practically spit out. As John looked back, he saw orange Promethean Knights teleport into the room by the dozens, all running towards the room with the Cyborg. In the distant background, the three remaining bodies of the Warden Eternal stood tall, ready to fight the Spartans.

"Did you really think I could figure out the teleportation network on my own?" the Cyborg asked. "That I could manufacture a device to control Prometheans without help? The Librarian hasn't been silent while she'd been inside my suit, Didact. She's alive even now, while the Recompiler I found schematics for and had Constructors build while I led you and the other humans on a wild goose chase."

The Cyborg turned around, and slotted the other end of the cable into the computer. Immediately, the outline of a humanoid creature about two meters appeared in the tube, and every half second a blue light swept through the tube. By the time it was finished, the outline became more corporeal, and more details and features became visible.  
"She has knowledge beyond anything humanity could ever hope for." the Cyborg said. "Humanity needs her. Far more than you need her dead. You want her corpse?" she raised a Spiker at the barrier, and it became opaque. "You'll have to pry it from my cold dead fingers."

"If you insist." the Didact said, as the Prometheans advanced.

John raised his own rifle at them. He didn't know whether he trusted the Cyborg or not. She'd gone to extreme lengths with this deception, and she'd endangered Cortana and Kalmiya. But he knew humanity couldn't afford to lose the chance to talk to a life Forerunner. And so, he would defend the Cyborg until the Librarian was restored. He opened fire on the closest one as he put Cortana back into his head.

"Welcome back." he said, as the mercury-cold sensation got back into his head.

"It's good to _be_ back." Cortana said, and she didn't sound as subdued as when she'd been in Diagnostic Mode. As a matter of fact, she sounded more alive than before entering it. Hell, even more alive than before the business on High-Charity.

"Now, we were about to tell the Warden to sod off, right?" Cortana asked.

"Naturally." he answered, as the first Promethean died and he turned his attention to the next.

* * *

 **Well, there's the end of that chapter. Up next, as promised:**

 **ISHIMURA!**

 **Until then,  
**

 **Gharst Omenlumin**


End file.
